Take my lunch-hour for instance. Came home to my 17 year old daughter announcing she had met a guy on the bus stop today. A 22 year old guy - who resides in one of our local inner-city neighborhoods (he even showed her where he'd been shot!). A 22 year old, inner-city dwelling un-married father - who was out looking for employment... Yeah. She gave him her phone number..............................................

She and I had a mini "Come to Jesus" meeting regarding suitability of suitors, etc. Gosh. This parenting stuff just never gets light and fun, does it?

At any rate, she came to understand that 22 year old heterosexual guys absolutely. never desire to be "friends" with nubile, 17 year old blondes. Ne-Ver. And while he is most likely the salt of the earth - should he telephone our house - it would be he and I having a conversation. Afterwhich we two would be of the same mind concerning his desire to wish my child well, and go on with his life...
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Yesterday the kid and I were at my mother's apartment so I could put all her pills into one of those handy pill-a-day plastic containers. This is so she can't screw up and forget to take her meds again real soon. At one point, my kid said "Oh, Grandma! I just LOVE YOU!" And my mother said she really liked having my kid over, because she's the only person who ever says that.

Gee... Back in about 1978, I was having dinner with my mother and her gal-pal Charla. During dinner, my mother stated she loved me. I mentioned that my father had left a message on the machine that same day, and that he had ended the message by saying he loved me. I noted that it was strange that the only time my parents had ever told me they loved me was on the very same day...

Well, my mother threw a crying fit! She cried to her gal-pal, Charla - and then she called my house and cried to my roomate, and then cried to me. All about how I should have just "known" that she loved me!

Well, I felt guilty for a while for mentioning that. Like it was MY fault for noticing.

But you know what? It was true. She NEVER said it until that night (I was 24 years old) and she's NEVER said it again - except in passing ("Thanks for picking up my groceries - that's why I love you").

So when my kid asked me on the way to the car, why I don't tell my mother I love her - I said it was a personal matter between her grandmother and me.


October 18, 2004

Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
September 01, 2008

One Last Bitchfest for the Road
August 24, 2008

Get the Popcorn Ready
July 17, 2008

I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
June 20, 2008