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Oh How I Love To…

…purposely aggravate my boy child.

One of my favorite methods of torture goes something like this…

I’m driving us home from somewhere, be-bopping along on a certain road.

As we near THE intersection, I inhale, wondering if he’s paying attention to the actual driving.

At the last possible moment, I slow down to make the right turn, fully anticipating the rant that is sure to follow.

He doesn’t ever, ever let me down.

“Mama, how many times do I have to tell you that you are going the slowest way home!”

Now, here’s the thing.

See, to get home this certain way, you’ve eventually got to turn right.

Rooster and the Mr. prefer to drive down the first road for a bit longer and make the turn a little further up the road.

I, on the other hand, think that it’s best to go head and make the turn, then make the turn left toward home, then meet up at the corner where they’ll eventually wind up anyway…the corner where Podunk High School is located.

Now, granted, the speed limit on my chosen road is 25mph, and driving this small stretch takes, perhaps, a few more seconds than the other way, which is 45mph.

However, there’s no traffic light going my way, and there is one the other way.

Regardless, this short segment of the drive never fails to evoke strong emotions from the boy child.

I find it hysterical and a bit of payback for the angst he regularly puts me through…forgetfulness, spaciness…etc.

The one thing I’m disappointed in is that I’m not raising my boy properly.  Obviously, arguing with a woman about directions is a trait that’s prewired into a male’s DNA.

So, to Rooster’s future wife, I apologize.

I tried.

I honestly did.

I tried to desensitize him to illogical driving methodology.

He never bought it though.

Oh well.  At least I’m having fun…albeit at the expense of his sanity.

😀

Chicky Can’t Catch a Break

Poor Chicky.  She just can’t seem to catch a break lately.

You might remember when she went over on her cell phone minutes?  I blogged about it here.

Last night, Chicky spent a couple of hours at a friend’s house.  As always, she texted me before she left.  Her curfew on weeknights is 10pm.  She’s only been late once, and it was only by a couple of minutes.

When I saw the clock digits hit 10:15, I sent the Mr. out to look for her.  We live in a small town, and it doesn’t take long to get places…especially at that hour.

Five minutes later, they both walked in the door.

Why was Chicky late?

One hint…

Yeah.

She was getting her first ticket.

She had made it into our neighborhood.  The first thing you encounter after going down a short strip of road is a stop sign.

Across from the stop sign is the neighborhood pool with a parking lot in front of it.

A cop had parked himself in this prime location.

When Chicky arrived at the stop sign, she eased into her turn without making a complete stop.

It was at that point when the lights on the cop car came on.

She knew she was done for.

I’m sure my many warnings to stop completely at stop signs echoed in her head as she waited for him to write the ticket.

Her heart fell when she saw the fine:  $160.

She’s always been a safe driver, and yes, she knows that stopping at stop signs is vital.  She was in a rush to make curfew (she knows to leave a few minutes earlier).  It was hard to stay mad at her.  I think she was more mad at herself.

It was another expensive lesson.  I think this one will stick.

Another Chicklet Driver

I love my readers.

As such, I consider it my duty to offer this warning:

Rooster obtained his Learner’s Permit today.

By my calculations, you have two weeks to safely navigate your roads.

During this time, he will be undergoing rigorous training within the confines of our neighborhood.

You see, we only have stick shift cars, so it’s an AuburnChick rule that one must learn how to get out of first gear without causing whiplash before proceeding to a real street.  Our neighborhood is the perfect place to conduct this training as it is blessed with an abundance of stop signs.

If you’ve never driven a stick shift, then allow me to explain that one must put the car in first gear after coming to a complete stop.  The tricky part is coming out of first gear without popping the clutch (i.e. conking out).

I’m readying the heating pad as I’m sure I’ll need it from the bumping the car will be doing along the road.

Oh sure, it’s funny if you’re on the outside looking in, but things are quite different from the passenger seat.

So, make your lists now…get everything done that you need to do.

When you see a car with the following magnets on it…

Yes, I really did have these specially made and will sneak them on the car after hes in the drivers seat.

Yes, I really did have these specially made and will sneak them on the car after he's in the driver's seat.

Go inside your home and stay there.

Or else, you can be like Pele and just not worry…

A Rare Smile

Soccer Chick smiled yesterday.

A real smile.

The kind that comes from deep within your soul and lights up your eyes.

I hadn’t seen that in a long time.

All because I told her she could drive herself and Rockin Rooster to church yesterday afternoon…without me.

Have you ever seen the commercial for Disney Cruise Lines?  The one with the teenage daughter who seems to be sour all the time until the camera catches her cracking a smile when she’s on a jetski?  Of course the smile disappears when she realizes she’s being watched.  But the fact that she’s having fun is enough to break through.

That’s Soccer Chick.

She quickly started texting “Guy Friend,” but decided that the news was too good to type.  She had to tell him in person.  While she was talking, I hollered over, loud enough for him to hear, about how wonderful I am.  She turned, not agitated as she usually is, but with a smile spread from ear to ear.

Of course, I couldn’t let her drive off without the obligatory spiel…don’t fight with your brother, don’t answer the cell phone even if it’s your wonderful, sweet Mama calling…yada, yada, yada.

Then I watched her go out to the car.

“Wait a second,” I shouted, as I ran inside to grab my camera.  Moments like this must be captured for posterity.

The first picture (which I cannot post because you can see the kids’ faces, thus breaking my promise for anonymity) shows them both smiling…car is still in the garage.

I snapped another as she was backing out.

Then, she stopped, as instructed, and they both waved.

Click.

Then, off they went.  I got one last picture of the back of the car going down the road.

Sigh…

One day she’ll be leaving home for good.

Sigh…

She called me about ten minutes later to let me know they had arrived safely, and I followed her home from church after my own Bible study.  She did a marvelous job. I’ve taught her well.

Sigh…

Soccer Chick is a Licensed Driver

What a crazy couple of days!

My afternoons have been extremely busy lately.  It’s a good thing I work part-time because the kids wouldn’t be doing what they want otherwise.  Well, okay, they’d probably be walking home instead of riding in an air-conditioned car.  Talk about living easy!

So, although Soccer Chick has been extremely rude and disrespectful, I finally decided to bite the bullet and let her get her license.  Off we went to the license place yesterday, Soccer Chick gabbing all the way there.  She got extremely nervous, though, after the examiner got up to lead her out.  I sat a nervous wreck as I watched my baby give me a look like she was being led to the slaughter.

About ten minutes later, she popped her head in the place and quietly asked me to  step outside.

“What’s wrong,” I asked.

“Mama, just come out here.”

All I could picture was a huge dent in the car.

When I finally got outside, she lowered her eyes and told me she had failed.  She hadn’t even gotten out of the parking lot.

My heart fell.  Poor darling.

Her first skill was to park and then back out.  Well, she knocked over a cone as she reversed, having parked too closely to the line.  Automatic failure.  If a car had been there, she would have hit it.  Good reason.  Bad result.

So, I took her back to school, where she had to eat crow, and I scheduled her appointment for the next day (today).  This time, she practiced parking a couple of times before going in.  Not a problem.  She didn’t look as nervous, except when she said that she would cry if she failed a second time.

I knew things were going to be okay when the examiner, a different lady, greeted us with a big, warm smile.  Score one for the easing of the nerves.  I gave Soccer Chick a few minutes to get out to the car before I sidled outside and spied her doing her thing, all the while talking to my friend on the phone (this helped me with my own case of the flutters) as Chick maneuvered her way in and out of the space safely before hitting the road for the rest of the test.

She came back with a huge smile on her face.

I knew she had passed.

She even managed to get a decent picture on her license too.

Score two for today.

Now I’m the one with the nerves.  She wanted to go out at 5pm to pick up dinner.

“Are you nuts?”  There are loads of people just waiting for a person like you.

We’ll do this slowly.  Perhaps I’ll let her drive around the neighborhood without me first…gently easing her out on the road on her own…without me.

Another hard part of parenting…letting go…literally and emotionally.