Friday, December 31, 2010

I like to think of myself as a non-violent person. But when I get angry, I revert to my reptilian brain, and I need to slap someone.


It's usually someone who can really press my buttons. Someone who knows me well enough to know exactly what will piss me off the most.

Today it's my son.

He messed around and did not register for next semester. Now he has to...wait, I'll have to hustle him up so he can register and pay Monday morning. I have nagged him since November to register, and he gave me that "I will! I will! Gah!" Then it turned to "I did already!" When I asked what classes or how many hours so I could pay the bill, he demurred and always said "I don't remember."


Color me suspicious.

Finally, my Daddy got after him. I relayed the message to His Majesty that his grandfather requested an audience with him, regarding his Further Higher Education. Great drama ensues. I go to play with my E Reader for a while. Time passes. I went in his room and he is fervently on line trying to register for classes. Ah ha! The worm turns. So, after some back and forthing, seems he will not be able to register until January 3rd, when the school opens again. The last day to pay for classes is January 4th. Oh ho! What an extended time frame we have to work with!

Then today...

I went into his room and asked him for a Hershey Kiss, of which my sister gave him several bags for Christmas. He was sitting at that damn World of Warcraft and he looks at me like "NO." But he said "Why?"

Why do you think? I didn't say that, but I said "Can I please have a Kiss?"

He sat there and mocked my expression, blinking at me and turning his head around like a girl. Then he ignored me. Look, I cannot stand for someone to make me feel stupid, and this 18 year old snip of my DNA was making me feel stupid. Yes, yes, yes, I know that no one can make me feel ANY way, that I am the master of my fate, the captain of my soul, blah blah...but we're still human. And he is in the Button Pusher category. I just said "You know, you're mean. Let me know how this being mean crap works out for you.", and I went out the door and slammed the Hell out of it.


I guess I need to reel it in. But dammit, have some respect and some gratitude. You live in your own room with anything you want, you drive a car and you know as long as you go to school and make decent grades you won't have to work.

Yeah, he's spoiled. He's an only child on purpose. (We knew it would be impossible to send multiple kids to college, so we made the conscious decision that one kid was enough. And I didn't want any more kids.) Not to mention the fact that he is an only grandchild, which is even worse than being an only child. So he's rotten. But he has manners and knows what is polite and impolite. I guess it's just safe to be a jackass to people who won't reject you.

I see so much of who I used to be in him. I wish he could stop and think like it took me years to do and correct these kinds of behavior that I used to foist on other people. We have to reach a point where we realize it isn't everybody else in the world that's being a douche to us: we're the douche.

No comments:

Post a Comment