Monday, July 27, 2009

I'm going to kill my son.

Any of you out there with a teenager know this feeling. I don't really think this should be a prosecutable crime. I kind of feel like...if you actually had a jury of your peers; parents of teenagers, and they heard your testimony, they'd be all "Awwwww... let 'em go."

It's not as if he's done anything in particular. This morning (call the Vatican, it's a miracle) the kid is up about 9:30. Since we are leaving on vacation this weekend, I asked him to get together the outfits he wants to wear, get the ones that are dirty and put them in the laundry, blah blah.


There are at least ten thousand reasons why this is a problem right now: I'm going somewhere with my friends at one, I wanted to play the Wii for a while, I gotta take a shower, I'm all a-dither about the Sara Palin resignation, blah blah blah. So he comes out with a shirt and a pair of shorts and is heading to the laundry room.

"What's that?" I asked.

There was a ponderous, sonorous sigh. "It's what I want to wear this afternoon."

"Well what about the other things?"

"What other things?"

(This the part where I do the neck out, head-cocked to the side thing that literally screams: DUH!) "The other clothes that are dirty that you need to take on vacation?"

Sssssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh. Back into the room. He returns with two more shirts and two more shorts. "Now. Are you happy?"

"What do I care? It's your vacation too. If you want to wear the same thing every day..."

Apparently this signals the Parent Rant and he went on to the laundry room.

Did you guys in other states hear that sigh? The Army has plans to use it for acoustic warfare.

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