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Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Operating in the Real World

My daughter had a three day weekend recently. In the totally self-absorbed way that only infants and teenagers live, she thought that it would be a good idea to invite her Gaggle of Girlgoyles over to watch the Texans game and then spend the night. All without asking one iota of permission, or thinking it all the way through. This will come back to haunt her.

The previous evening, her brother, who was house-sitting next door, had a party for the Texas Tech game with some college pals of his. They kept me up until after 3AM Saturday with their outdoor hijinks. I let them go on because I didn't have to wake up to go to work the next day, and figured it would be "character enhancing" and "self-esteem building" if one of the other neighbors I was sure they were bothering called the cops. No one did, they reigned it in and I slept for a total of 4 hours.

The next night was different. I did have to get up early to go in to work the next day, so the last thing I needed was to be awakened at midnight by a gaggle of giggling girlgoyles. I told them 4 times to shut it down. They got four because A) they're not my kids and I'm not allowed to drag them to their rooms, screaming, and B) they're all afraid of me. Finally, after finding them all in the sunroom on MY computer, which my daughter had parked them at, I sent them all to her room, where she was lounging "to get away from their noise". They went to sleep, I was up until 4 AM trying to get back to sleep.

So, I was back up after 2 hours of refreshing sleep and not feeling kindly towards anyone under the age of 30. All because a 16 year old girl did not follow the next logical step in her thought process and proceeded, like a snow plow, down an icy road fraught with peril and parental disapprobation.

I came home from work, after working overtime, taking my car into the shop, totally exhausted, and made dinner. Salmon, yummy. Which I had to do, despite my menu planning because my son had taken the box of salmon fillets out of the freezer to get something, and left them sitting on top of the fridge. I got them before they'd totally warmed, stowed them INSIDE the fridge, for dinner later.

My daughter sat sullen throughout dinner. My son didn't even bother to say he wasn't eating. I know, lovely set of kids, right? But I love them, only because I know that when Karma catches up to them, I will probably laugh until I pee my pants.

After dinner, my daughter, sullen, dirty faced, with hair looking like Medusa, tells me that she needs me to do something important for her.

I gave her the "mom" look, and then asked in the tone of voice that brooks no argument, "After last night you want something from me?" She mumbled something akin to "forget it" and stomped off to her room, knowing that no matter what, I was the immovable mover and she was no irresistible force.

My daughter thought only of what she wanted, did not care what anyone had to say or think about it, and steam engined her way through. She did not think about how it might effect anyone else around her or future repercussions after, all she thought about was her agenda. Nothing else mattered. Scorched earth theory.

My daughter is Nancy Pelosi.

My hammer is bigger.

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