Monday, August 18, 2008

Sunset on Childhood

Yesterday was the irksome middle child's birthday. She is officially an adult - which in her mind means she can do anything she wants and consequences? Damn them and bring on the booze.
We have tried, tried tried to instill a sense of responsibility and right and wrong, only to see our efforts flung back in our faces.
Keeds. They only hear what they want to hear. When I told my newly fledged adult that she had established patterns of behavior that would lead to failure in life....note how carefully I chose my words...she went ballistic and begun sulking ever so loudly, with lots of added profanity. So loudly was her pouting, in fact, that I had to roll up the car windows so as not to offend the patrons of Haydn Zug's (a historical eatery in our town, and expensive, too).
All Unit #3 heard was that I thought she was a failure.
"Well, tell me. What are you are doing right now that could be considered successful."
"Aside from that, I mean."
"Eff-effin'- eff-eff!"
"So you agree, that you haven't really tried."
*pouting movements*
"Does sleeping in late and not working make you successful in life?"
"Does drinking and hanging out with your friends get you an income?"
{: O
"Okay, then. You are now 18. And that means if you do whatever you want, you get to own it! It will be all yours. Not me, not your father will bail you out. Not out of your bills, not out of jail.
Got it?"
"Effin' effity-eff-effin' effer!"
>: @
"Oh yeah, and Happy Birthday."
It is really hard to slap a child while driving, so please do NOT lecture me. I have this fear of running someone over while angrily smacking my child, and then, while smacking the fartling some more, backing over the poor pedestrian and running him over again, just for good measure. It's called 'Transferrence' in Psychospeak.

Though she clearly did not deserve it, Dad took her out and let her get her nails done, which means we have to open her soda cans for awhile. And she got some little things, that she liked, like some cologne and some baubles and make up. We went out for her special dinner at Macaroni grill. She wouldn't eat anything more than a piece of fried cheese. And then she went out to celebrate with her friends. She didn't want a cake. She didn't want much from me.
At 2 am, I called her and again at 4 am, but nothing. I wanted to worry my head off, thinking she may have been drinking, and whatever other horrors follow from that, but she came home this afternoon, as though nothing happened. And then she asked if she would be getting more presents.
Sigh. School starts next week, and she must be drug tested, abide by a written contract and other adult realities. We shall see how long she lasts before she moves out.....and then back in.

Here she is at her most very beguiling, courtesy of Christian Behr: (click the link, and let the music's definitely Ms. Vexatious Minx's style.) She has much potential. To lead or to be a follower. Boys beware. Miss Trixie is back in school. Someone's gonna learn a lesson, that's for sure.

She ain't jail bait no more. Damn.


  1. Anonymous11:37 PM

    Wow. makes me glad to be a castrato.

  2. Hehehe! I don't think I have ever had such an exquisitely funny retort! I wish you weren't anonimo, Anonimo!

  3. I am not so alone. Your daughter and mine must be twins. I've had to go back to eating bland food. Everyone keeps telling me there is an end to the buffet of parental misery. As yet I have yet to see the desert table.

  4. I always feel like you, lynndeepoo. Alone. Until I get messages like yours, which remind me that I am not alone at all. It is cathartic to be able to write openly and even expose myself to either ridicule or hate for writing what I write, because I do get folks who write and we all have the same problems after all!

  5. This too shall pass.........honestly. The point of teen yrs is for them to break away and develop independance. Ok now that outta the way......smack her again once just for me :) I miss that ......sometimes...giggle.

    The only good thing about this is one day they will have to go thru and then they will FINALLY understand. Trust me.....that is what happens. (Im on the other side now ,,,,,,,SHE has a 16yr old of her own now heheheehe..Payback is a bitch but I so enjoy it)

  6. Ah, seanymph, is there anything more delightful and more thoroughly enjoyed than watching payback! I worry the most worrisome things, and then when they don't materialize, I don't wipe my brow with a sigh of relief, oh no! I am like the dutiful son when the prodigal gets away with it yet again, and I clench my worndown teeth more grinchly than ever.
    Oh well, I am in the midst of making a fantastic Nutella Cake, and I hope to blog about it after dinner! Talk at you all later.

  7. Please tell the irksome one that the GREAT Haid Dasalami wishes her a very happy year.

    I'm too easy on kids myself, because I was an inveterate f-up when I was young. Still am, really. If it weren't for those whom God has given into my care, I'd sleep all day, gamble all night, and get high at any and every hour of the day and night. I totally get degeneracy and hedonism. In fact, there's almost no telling what I could have accomplished in life had I just been capable of exercising a little control over myself.

    As for CSS, Scherzo, I'm afraid I'm almost useless. I have done a little CSS tweaking here and there, but it's all by trial and error--mostly error. CSS is a lot like radical Islam: I know just enough about it to know it's not my friend.

    Blogburst just came out, so gotta run.

    Hey, you've got lots of readers 'sides me.

    Moor later.

  8. I am going to tell my Unit #3 just what you said! I hope it goes well for her at school. They have a new program called Sapphire, which let's parents know when the kid's skipped, what assignments are missing, if there was food thrown in the lunch room, and if the teacher is sorely vexed for any reason! Seriously.

  9. No, don't tell her what I said, Sra. What are you thinking? Don't you remember you regretted telling her about your own early frivolity?

    I've learned that we endear ourselves to kids by putting ourselves on their level, but it's almost entirely destructive. They want to hear that we were fuck-ups. It makes it OK for them. After all, we turned out alright, didn't we?

    Well, no. In a lot of cases, we didn't. So while it may be cute to show the hostile hottie that the great Haid Dasalami--now far right of Dick Cheney--was once a Bohemian, pot smoking, jazz playin', swashbuckling gambler, it is not what she needs to hear.

    She needs to hear that partying all night and sleeping all day makes Jane a very dull food stamp recipient. You work so hard, Sra. Just tell her why.

    My father worked thirty years for the same firm and he got a gold watch, a pension, and a stroke. I thought he was a fool.

    I'm now well into my twenty-sixth year at the same desk, but I'd much rather be paying cards and bee bop. It's nothing to be proud of. Frankly, my jazz and poker chops are more developed than my work ethic.

    Someday by e-mail I'll tell you what I do at that desk.

    As it happens, mouthy, irksome, hostile hotties are my specialty.

  10. Ya got me there, Haid. I won't say NUTTIN. I have done the whole Welfare is your future, sign up now thing, and really, it doesn't phase her. I have decided that it is time to let her experience life. She is a wild filly who needs to learn things the hard way, methinks. Besides, she is in Chincoteague with her sisters and Daddums and I get to be on vacation. Which means I have to take the trash out now.

  11. I'm not at this stage with my kids, yet.

    I have one I'm worried about and another who I think will probably just take over the world and have a good time doing it.

    Who knows, really?

    I dread finding out. But, I'm glad they are here and I get to love them.

  12. Love them every minute, Jaco. Mine plus Husband were all on vacation in Chincoteague, which means I was on vacation from keeeeeeds. There are times I look at my 21 year old first born and say to myself: This shapely young woman was born weighing only 3 pounds! And she lost weight in the hospital and went down to 2 lbs. 8 oz.! I spent days and nights rocking her in the NICU worrying that she would die, or not be know, all the things new parents worry about. But now she is 21, and we share a drink now and then. The mind. It boggles.

  13. My, was THAT a fun post, Jewel. Most satisfying.

    ... and yes, I agree: Boys beware as Mary is Arch-type pretty and a real hand-full! I have 3 Marys in my life (Sister and 2 aunts) and they, too, have put the 'fun' in dysfunction!

    Maybe its the name...


Don't just sit there, say something!