Posts filed under ‘Daily Life’
A Letter to the Editor
Dear Dad,
I would like to get a cell phone. I do not care what kind it is at all. I am going into 6th grade next year. Although I will NOT be going downtown and to the mall with just my friends, I might be going to a lot of friends houses. Well, actually, I probably will be. Plus I will be needing rides home from the Sports Center after dance and school and who knows if I may be joining any new activities. I really think I am a very responsible person. I am not asking for texting right now and don’t need to have it for a while after I get it if you guys think that is too much. You can have my phone at night for awhile after I get one. I don’t think that it is fair that just because #4 got one in 7th grade that I should have to too. I really do think that I am responsible. I won’t do stupid things with my phone and think that I am grown up and mature enough to have a phone next year. Thank you for the time you have taken to listen to this speech. I hope this gives you lots of inspiration when you choose to make your decision. Please take your time.
That’s it, he’s grounded… Wait, what?
A few months ago, #2 picked up a serious strain of senioritis. He’s continually assured us that he would pull thru and finish strong – even though edline continually said differently. We gave him the latitude to prove to us that he could indeed pull it off, but today was the last straw.
This morning his guidance counselor called and informed us that he was at risk of not graduating – he was failing a class that was off of our radar and he was worried (like we were) about several of his other classes.
No more latitude. We needed to structure his environment to make sure he graduated. So, we got to work framing out #2′s grounding orders – it would need to be swift and strong.
Oh, the irony… (as seen in this text volley with him this morning)
Dad: Come home after school and don’t go anywhere until I come home at 2:00
#2: Why
Dad: Mr. L just called and said you might not graduate. I’m done messing with you and your grades.
#2: No, I’m getting an A in Creative Writing. I talked to Mr. P and I just need to turn my stories in so I’m not failing anymore.
Dad: Then turn them in! I don’t like getting calls from guidance counselors saying they are worried my kid won’t graduate and they are failing classes I didn’t know about.
#2: Mr. L just came to see me and we talked and it’s no big deal. So, I’m just gonna turn those in. And, he said I can get a full ride to a local college. So, I’m gonna to talk to him after school. Can you pay for my application? It’s on the computer.
Dad: OK, good. Let’s talk about the application later today.
The Clothes are Coming Off
I was just walking thru the kitchen as #3 bounded up from the basement in classic Krameresque fashion and said “Whoa, what am I doing with a Barbie? I better put this back downstairs. Yeah… Freddy* likes to take the clothes off Barbies. So weird…”
* Names changed to protect the, ummm…
The Wheels are Coming Off
This afternoon #2 walked in complaining that my pickup truck (which, as far as he is concerned is his car) was making a knocking noise. He had an important mission to buy a yellow headband and he needed some wheels.
This knocking business all started about 2 weeks ago. I had noticed that the front left tire was going flat on my truck. I asked him if he might know anything about why the tire was going flat. He had no idea. After I pressed him a bit, he vaguely recalled spinning out and slamming into a curb one snowy night a week earlier. Huh…
I thought it would be good for him to take responsibility for the tire, so I told him he needed to go fill it up, check the remaining tires, clean the truck out and get it washed. He called about 20 minutes later. The tire was not filling up. Air kept coming out. He was somewhat amazed to discover that the rim was damaged – he was sure this was caused by the car wash. Huh…
I had him deliver it to our mechanic and the rim damage was confirmed. Our mechanic put the spare on and told us we could drive it as long as we didn’t go very fast and stayed local – he would order a rim and it might take several days. I drove the truck to the office about 2 miles away and on the way I heard a strange knock which got louder and faster as I drove. Huh…
Turns out the lug nuts had come loose on the spare. We tightened them up and all was well. And, that is what #2 heard tonight. Knowing that the lug nuts had come loose again, I told him to take the Toyota. He called about 10 minutes later and said that the Toyota was making a strange knocking noise. Huh…
He thought the lug nuts must be loose on the Toyota too. I told him there was no way – just keep driving – the Toyota makes funny noises sometimes. He called back 2 minutes later “Dad, something is really wrong, the car was going all over the place, I just pulled over. Oh my gosh! The back right tire is totally flat! There are slash marks on it. I swear I didn’t do anything!” Huh…
So, it’s dark, it’s about 10 degrees out and my 17 year old is standing in a Walgreens parking lot in his shorts. (He wasn’t planning on car trouble.) I’m stuck at home with a truck that has its own tire problems – so I go out and jack up the truck and tighten the lug nuts (again). Alas, Mom comes home with the Suburban (which had also been in the shop this week). I hop in to go help crash with yet another tire. I pull up next to him and he can’t get the spare tire out of the trunk. Huh…
Turns out it is FROZEN into the spare tire well. Like, there is ICE in there. Not frost – ICE. Chunks of ice. I work on it for awhile and #2 has an idea “If we only had warm water”. Neither of us had to pee, so we went into Walgreens and they gave us a bucket of warm water. Amazingly enough it worked – the water melted the ice enough for us to pop the tire out. I start jacking the car up to take the tire off and #2, who is freezing in his shorts, asks if he can head out for awhile to go buy his yellow headband. Huh…
Sure, no problem, go buy your fancy headband while I lie in the ice changing this tire that appears to have been shot. It was a total blowout. I get the spare tire on and wouldn’t you know it, it’s flat. Actually, not totally flat, it is partially filled with ice. Huh…
It is barely drivable, but we make it to our mechanic’s place. He’ll have another tire to fix (hopefully). We headed home in the Suburban together – Mom had pizza in the oven and we were hungry. We recapped our adventure with the family over pizza – everyone had theories about what really happened to the tire. But, the whole spare tire packed in ice thing was a mystery to me. As we hit that part of the story, #1 chimed in. “You know what that was? I know what that was. That was gas. Remember when me and (girlfriend #1) had to go fill up gas cans for her dad [over 3 years ago!!]? Yeah, it spilled all over back there in the trunk. I don’t think we ever got it all out.” Huh…
Halloween fun (and attitude)
Zombie Princess (cuz you gotta be a princess or a fairy or a ballerina)
Pippi Longstocking (how easy can you get?)
#3, the 1970s high school soccer player with facial hair, and his best friend, The Joker
#5 (on the left) said, “Do I look like Helen?”
We’re done for another year.
Your kids will bust you
I got to sit in on my husband’s Confirmation class this evening. This is a bunch of 8th graders (mostly boys) in various stages of development. They talk about politics, throw food, pass gas, and ask great questions. It’s amazing. And I am thankful that I don’t have to teach them.
Tonight they were talking about temptations that kids their age are faced with. They giggled through topics like “looking at pornography” and “having sex.” When “swearing” came up, some of them admitted to having trouble with it because everyone they know swears. One boy had the line of the evening (and the one that reminded me that our kids are always watching us): “You wanna hear swearing? You should hear my dad at my football games!” Yikes.
Stinky Little Girls
#5 and her friend Helen are having a farting contest. It all started about 5 minutes ago when Helen tripped and accidently let one rip – with authority. There was a brief moment of embarassed silence followed by giggles, raucous laughter and then an outright competition. Modesty be gone.
The only thing missing was a lighter.
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