My 22-year-old daughter moved out of our house and into an apartment with her girlfriend last November. It was very exciting to help her with this very first totally independent adult endeavor. Which makes the following even more understandable:
- Christina’s roommate likes to cook. Christina never graduated beyond grilled cheese sandwich at home. As an example to show just how much I have taught her about cooking, she came home on a weekend and said, “Mom! Did you know you could freeze meat?!”
- My husband was showing Christina how to work the fireplace in her living room. “But be careful the first time you use it,” he told her. “Oh, don’t worry,” she replied. “I would never use it without adult supervision.”
- “What? Use the laundry facilities at the apartment? Are you crazy? Strangers underwear have been in those machines. I am just going to come home every weekend and wash my clothes here, okay?”
- My husband emailed a link to my daughter on new iPhones. She immediately emailed him back fairly screeching “ARE YOU NOW TELLING ME YOU WON’T PAY FOR MY PHONE ON THE FAMILY PLAN AND I’M ON MY OWN??!!” My husband forwarded her email to me asking in confusion: “What did you say to her?” I replied about the little “I hate being an adult because I have to pay bills every single month, do all the cleaning myself, go to the grocery story and do you have any idea how much tampons cost?” rant she had last weekend. And THAT was the real issue. I totally understand that it sucks having to be responsible and grow up.
- No, Christina. I will not clean your bathtub. Even if you offer to pay me.
- Christina has given up on the custody battle for her dog, Casey. He lives with us. Mainly because every time he wants to go outside she has to put on his harness, use the leash and then take him down three flights of stairs outside. And he wants this done often. And it’s winter. We have the pet door. We win.
turned 20 yesterday. All he wanted was cash – which we got him and also a gift certificate to a local used book store. I love the fact that he reads as much as I do. In honor of his turning 20 I thought I would share a few memories from his life:
Born on June 2nd. Due date was June 5th and I was so miserable being pregnant that I talked the doctor into inducing labor on May 30th (Even then I was so gifted with my effectual whining that my doctor just gave in). But I didn’t like the birth date so decided to wait until June 3rd. Except my water broke on June 2nd. Totally screwed that plan up. My husband grabbed the hospital bag and ran to the car. I got in the shower.
“What are you doing taking a shower?!!” He asked.
“Shaving my legs,” I answered. It is so different when it is your second child.
When Michael was three years old, he ran from the nursery at church holding a paper cross like a gun and starting shooting all the members of the congregation. I was mortified.
When he was five he broke his arm. Because this was not our first trip to the Emergency Department we had a check list. Which we followed until Michael whispered to me: “I’m not wearing any underwear.” Then we had to add a new check to the list.
When he was a cub scout he attended the “Fish-o-ree” but promised me he wouldn’t catch any fish. But he did. All I brought was a ziplock baggie and wet wipes. And he insisted on bringing the fish home so his dad could see them. Then we forgot they were in the freezer for about 7 years.
Note on 6th grade report card: Had two extra days to complete assignment. Caught him doing it at the beginning of class. And he still got a B. Very irritating but shows lost potential.
Michael has always been pretty witty. One day when getting into the car after school one day he said: “My faith in humanity is gone knowing that one day my classmates will reproduce.” and “Mom, if the words, trailer park and love are in the same sentence, it’s a country song.”
When we had to purchase a new riding lawn mower for our large lawn, we didn’t do any research. All we wanted was the cheapest one. Because Michael was going to ruin it. Three years later and it is pretty broke up but still running. We totally called it.
and now he is 20! Happy Birthday, Michael!
Michael at age 14
My daughter asked if I wanted to carpool to work.
“You’re out of gas, aren’t you?” I asked.
“Totally on fumes,” she responded.
Daughter: Exactly how long is one million seconds?
Dad: There is one easy way to find out.
Daughter: Oh, like Google it, right?
Dad: Well, I was thinking more along the lines of dividing by 60 but that would work, too.
I walked in from work, took one look at my husband’s face and asked: “Okay, what did our children do this time?” Surprisingly, it wasn’t the kids. Boca-cat had brought a live chipmunk into the house and let it go. It’s all in the timing. I missed the hunt and release by minutes.
First time son was alone overnight on a Saturday. Needless to say, as parents we had major reservations. So I posted a huge post-it note on the wall with explicit directions:
- If the cat bites your ankles, you need to feed him
- No smoking in the house
- No drinking in the house (and this doesn’t mean you just go outside)
- If you find Casey lying on his back on the kitchen rug, making little mewing noises, it means he is hungry.
- Make sure Abbey can get out the pet door.
- Do NOT eat my Cheetos!
- We will be home by 4 pm on Sunday – I will text you exact time so you can make sure house is clean by the time we get home.
- Lock the doors at night. All doors. Every one. Don’t forget.
- Please text me occasionally just to reassure me the house is still standing.
- I stopped up the toilet in our master bedroom by using too much toilet paper. So I used the kitchen bath until my husband used it so he had to unplug it.
- When my phone alarm goes off in the morning, I reach over and keep trying to turn off my container of tic tacs. I really should either eat the damn things or throw them away.
- I went ape shit crazy on my kids when I saw how dirty their toilet was in the upstairs bathroom. I am not kidding; I told them both to move out if they couldn’t property clean a toilet. They immediately cleaned it. (Correction – my daughter immediately cleaned it. Because I don’t want to hear her bitch at me later when she reads this).
- I can’t sleep so I get up at 3:00 am and put laundry away. And then start dusting. So my dog gets up and tells me it is time to eat. I don’t want to argue with her so I go back to bed. I have never heard such a desolate sigh from a dog when she discovered we weren’t cooking.
- I turn on the electric heater because the air conditioner is blowing on me while watching TV. And then I totally deny that I am using it when someone says anything.
- I constantly tell the cat that I am not his private doorman as I open the patio door to let him in or out for the 13th time. We both know I am lying.
- “LOOK AT THOSE FEET!” now equals your ass is getting a bath when our Yorkie comes in from romping outside in the mud. He now knows what it means and runs and hides. And I do agree that it isn’t fair that my dog only gets her feet sprayed with the outside hose because she won’t fit in the kitchen sink.
- I always order the Berry Almond Chicken salad and medium tea from Wendy’s. One day I decided to go with a Baja salad instead. When I got back home, I had a Berry Almond Chicken salad. Is it sad that they know me that well?
I get so tired of saying the same things to my two young adult children still living at home:
- I don’t care who drew it, please get the pressure washer and remove the picture of the penis from the back patio.
- Which one of you used up all my Kroger points to get a discount on gas?
- I realize it is a family calendar but I don’t appreciate you writing “Touch yourself Tuesday” on every week.
- At this point I believe it would be more cost-effective for me to pay to fix John’s oil leaking mess of a car than to keep purchasing 25 pound bags of cat litter to pour over his oil puddles in our driveway when he comes to visit.
- Putting all your trash in a garbage bag and then dragging it into the loft area does not mean “I already took the trash out.”
- Please do not bring any leftover bagged food back to the kitchen after they have been half consumed elsewhere. That is just gross to me and your dad and we are not going to eat it.
- I gave up on the silverware over two years ago. I now buy in bulk from Sam’s Club and just replenish once it gets low.
- I hide things I do not want lost or broken.
- There is a reason I text you the exact time we will be home after a weekend trip.
- I don’t care what you say, “F*CK” is not an acceptable word in our house and it most certainly is not the name of your sibling.
- I am not stupid. And your father isn’t stupid, either.