Archive for June, 2011

It’s come to my attention that my comments aren’t working… so give this a shot…

So, it’s my kid’s thirteenth birthday today.

If you’ve been reading me since I was attempting to get him to stop hiding his dirty Pull-Ups in his dresser drawers, this may come as something of a shock to you, as it kind of does to me.

Am I ready to be the parent of a teenager?

The teen-ager-ness has been slowly oozing out – there are six different kinds of Axe deodorant and body sprays in his bathroom, he wears contact lenses most of the time now, and his smart mouth is equal to or perhaps beginning to surpass my own.

Thirteen years ago, I held a slightly orange baby while slightly stoned on morphine. I looked down at his large eyes and face so like my own and thought, “Just what the hell are we going to do with each other?”

It’s definitely been a long, strange trip. From beads up the nose to toilet floods to wandering in the street while I lay passed out to learning to ride a bike to calling 911 on the neighbor kid to everything that’s come along with it, the J-Man has never provided a dull moment, save the times he’s been glued to the XBox.

Now that I think about it, there have been a LOT of dull moments.

We’ve discussed poop at the dinner table, mastectomies over breakfast, and menopause while getting ready for school. I think my child is the most well-informed person on the planet regarding the body and all its foibles and functions, thanks to this sick family.

He’s seen surgeries and seizures and has come out a strong child who is good to have around in an emergency and entertaining to have in a hospital room.

All in all, I’m proud of my kid, and I think he’s going to be a fine teenager, and a fine man.

I told him this morning that I would forgive him for being a smelly rotten teenager. He replied that he’d remember that when I asked him to start driving me around.

Touche.

A teenager. Sometimes before I go into his room to wake him up in the morning I still think I’m going to find a toddler in a bed with a rail on it, a chubby cherub curled up to one side clutching a blanket and an Elmo doll.

What a trip.

Please forgive me my little burst of nostalgia. My kid’s thirteen today.

Happy Monday.

Two more days until summer vacation.

Two more days until “I’m bored,” and “I have nothing to doooooo,” as a perfectly good bike sits in the garage and a perfectly good neighborhood with perfectly good parks remains unmolested by kids, who are consummate wusses and say that it’s too hot to go outside.

Am I wrong for telling my kid to suck up to the kids who have pools in their backyards? I think not.

I am Not Having an XBox addict this summer, nor am I having a child who bogarts my laptop. If I have to pick him up, carry him outside, and lock him out of the house, I will do it. If he wants to stay inside, I can find him plenty of chores to do.

Like cleaning the toilets. Or scrubbing out the oven.

Perhaps he would like to give me a pedicure, too.

Yes, folks, this summer I am Not Fucking Around.

The J-Man is also going to have to see a math tutor this summer, much to his chagrin, because another thing I am Not Having is a crappy math grade next year.

Lest you think I’m cracking the whip too hard, fear not. We have plenty of fun things planned: the upcoming Sox game (thanks Poppy!!), a Gary Railcats game, a vacation, and probably every festival and fair in Northwest Indiana.

I just don’t want this to be a summer of electronic devices. Let this be an old-school summer of popsicles, outside games, sprinklers, bike rides, and raucous running around.

I could use some running around myself. Am I too old to play Kick the Can? Do kids even know what Kick the Can IS?

Probably not.

Anyway, here’s to a good summer, to beers and begonias on the back porch, and to family vacations that don’t drive you too too nuts.

Kick it off right and kick those damned kids outside.

Happy Monday.

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