Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Here are a few more shots from last week's outing to Bavon and New Point.
Last night the Mathews High School cross country teams won their last regular meet of the season, with many runners setting new records. Justin Adams, in Daughter's class, set a new course record. Emma Hudgins, my neighbor's granddaughter who is a JV runner, also ran a tremendous race. The girls won in spite of many serious injuries. Daughter shaved some more time off her personal best. It was a very exciting evening to be a cross country parent.
In other excitement that is not so welcome, Son's car has been in the shop since last week. My car needs new tires. Work is busier than usual, and I'm juggling incoming requests and Major Life Deadlines with my teenagers that cause exchanges like this:
Son: "Have you ordered my cap and gown?"
Me: (crickets) "Have I seen the paperwork?"
Son: (crickets) (He doesn't understand the word "paperwork" because his world is paperless.)
Me: "What do I need to do?"
Me: "I can't do anything if I don't know what to do."
Son: (Debates using my last remark in his nomination for Most Profound Mother of the Year award, but then realizes there may be paperwork involved, plus deadlines for nominations, etc.)
Or then there's this:
Son: "Hey, you know the week after graduation?"
Me: (crickets) (Too far in advance and I'm in denial graduation exists. Perhaps explains no cap and gown ordering, whether there was paperwork or not.)
Son: "Well, a bunch of us want to get a beach house down in Nags Head."
Me: (Heart pounding out of my chest, blood vessels getting ready to explode all over the place but I remain outwardly nonchalant) "Oh. Hmm. Who all would be going?"
Son: "This one and that one. And the other one. And more."
Me, picturing House Party to end all house parties: "You know teens cannot rent houses."
Son: "There would be an adult chaperone."
Me, stifling laughter and hysterics. Also blinking back tears: "Does this adult chaperone have a name?"
Son: "Yeah, I think it's between a couple of people right now."
Me, wondering how quickly I can obtain a passport and flee the country: "OK, well, we'll talk about this some more. Later. Much."
Since this is not the "How to Survive Parenthood" blog, I'll cut this post off here. Even though I could go on and on.
Don't get me started on the college application due next week.
Click here for the sound of crickets, which I choose to focus on in all of these conversations. For the sake of sanity.