Friday, May 25, 2007

the growing up never stops (and I guess that's a good thing)

I'm back off my all too high horse now. I'm OK. Really I am.

The youngster is now officially a week into summer break. He's started his mandatory summer reading and is off having a blast. He's also staying up later, which is a new thing for us...like wanting to be up later than mom and dad, who have to work the next day. So far he's butted up against mom & dad's bedtime, but not past...until last night.

A girl (does it always start with a girl?) in our neighborhood went to his old school and will be attending his high school. Last night she had 4 girls from their old school over for a sleepover, and asked the youngster if he wanted to go bike riding with them for a while. The youngster and five girls. How could he refuse? How could I not let him go? He put on a shirt with a collar (where'd that come from all of a sudden) and left around 8:00 on his bike and I went to the gym. At 9:30, my phone rings. It's the wife, clearly peeved, because she's called the youngster several times and he's not answering his phone. It's dark. He's somewhere on his bike. Where the hell is he?

So I went trolling through the neighborhood in search of...until my phone rang again. The wife called the girl's house. Crisis over. He was there watching some show. She talked to him and told him to turn his phone on and turn the volume up...so I went home. Yes, I cut the gym thing short, but there wasn't much sense in going back.

All was OK with the world, until 10:30 when the wife decided it was time for him to come home. She tried to call him again, and went through the same drill. She called the girl's house and nobody answered there either, but he called back a few minutes later, and was told to come home.

He called from his cell phone while riding his bike home...I guess to have someone to talk to in the dark. I opened the garage and waited for him in the driveway. He showed up...without his collared shirt. He's wearing his t-shirt (which was under the collared shirt) which has all the girls names on it in orange (hopefully washable) marker and...eye liner.

"I can explain. They attacked me."

Oh, and I'll just assume you hated every minute of that. I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing the part where you struggle or fight back when attacked didn't happen...much. I'm no expert on eye liner, but I imagine he would have to be very still for that part to have happened.

"OK, but we have a few things to discuss."

To be honest, in the driveway, in the dark, I didn't notice the eye liner part. I may have missed it altogether, except he told me about it and asked how to get it off, and if he looked all "emo". Oh, like I know. The makeup removal expert was in the house and steaming, and I don't even know what "emo" is....let alone if anybody looks it.

We went over ground rules for any future outings like this...to save the wife's sanity. When you stop riding your bike and settle at a single location for a length of time, we will know that location. You will call and tell us. Your phone will be on and the ringer volume loud enough for you to hear it, because when we call, you will answer. If we can't do those things, we can't have the fun of nights like these.

Yeah, I know...we're just in the early stages of that battle.

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