Okay, I am faced with a terrible dilemma. I mentioned to you a couple of posts ago that D has already gotten in trouble several times in school so far this year. What agitates me the most about this is that although he had a sprinkle or two of behavioral problems last year, he kept his grades up...this year, he's decided he would fuck up in both areas (pardon my French).
So Friday, as I'm rushing home from work, my phone is ringing...this is becoming a ritual. I guess W and D are so popular, their friends must compete for their weekend company. I didn't mind this day in particular, because I wanted to go and have all you can eat crab legs with my friend. So hastily I packed their bags to get them on their way.
Saturday, a friend of mine invited me and my boys to come to a company picnic...lots of food to be eaten and lots of fun to be had. So we went and had a great time! People also came to the house afterwards, so the kids enjoyed video games and also were outside until the absolute last possible moment of the evening.
Sunday, D had a Boy Scouts outing at an indoor attraction venue in the neighborhood...we're talking Euro Bungee, obstacle course, inflatables, bumper cars, Wii Lounge, bowling, and arcade...I mean this place is the SHIT! He and W had a frickin' BLAST!
So, Sunday evening, as we're winding down, I tell the boys to prepare for the school week, you know, minor details, like homework, showers, getting their clothes ready, and letting me sign their daily planners...what in the HELL did I do that for?
I opened D's planner, and to my surprise, there is a LONG ass note in there from his teacher basically letting me know that he was missing an assignment and had acted a FUCKING DONKEY in class on Friday! Oh, Hell. No.
So I asked him WTF...? Do you guys want to know what he said to me? He said, "Well, I thought she called you Friday?" Ahem...let me run that by you again...he said, "Well, I thought she called you Friday?" As reflex has it, I slapped what they call the SHIT out of him, but realized as I felt steam shooting from my ears and veins bursting in my eyes that if I whipped him at that moment, I might have hurt him, so I made him remove himself from my presence and I sat back to cool down...and to ponder...
Now I open the floor to you...what do you suggest I do? If that had been ME when I was younger, I don't give a damn if it was a Hot wheel track, a self-picked switch off the tree, a piece of furniture, a shoe, or any other random object in her reach, my Momma was gone FUCK ME UP! She would (as they say) tear my ass out of the socket! But of course now days, it's taboo to do such and governments think they have a say-so in YOUR household where YOU pay the bills and where YOU have endured teens of hours of labor and gave birth to YOUR children...I digress.
I am going to contemplate this a bit longer, but in the meantime all he's allowed to do is pretty much eat, sleep, shit and breathe...I suggest you guys help him out!