Mom of the Year, Not. (Thanks, Elton)

So, this whole parenting thing is not always easy. More like: rarely predictable, sometimes infuriating and often downright exhausting.

But, it’s also a hoot.

‘Cause you get to mess with somebody else’s mind….something you would normally be told not to do, only now it’s almost a requirement. (Cue “Jaws” music here….slowly build to terrifying crescendo…….! CUT! Now, replace with complete and utter silence.)

Scary, right?

Most of the time, I get it right. I think. But, sometimes….well…..I’m a little less than perfect in my parenting skills.

Like when I’m leaving to drive really, really far away and leaving the boys home. I’ll stick my head in Connor’s room to say goodbye. He barely glances at me, as I’m interrupting his video game.

Me: “Well….bye. I’ll be back in like, I dunno…maybe eight hours?”

Then, I say the three little words that every 12-year-old boy wants to hear from his mother.

Connor: (Eyes never leaving teevee screen) “Okay. Uh-huh….okay.”

Me: “That’s it? ‘Okay’? That’s all I get? You want your last words to your mother to be ‘Okay’??”

Connor: (Finally looking at me) “What? What are you talking about? Where are you going, anyway??”

That’s when I give him “The Look”.

“The Look” is comprised of tilting ones chin slightly downward, whilst staring intently at minor subject whilst pressing ones lips tightly together. It is a serious look, not to be over-used, lest it loses its effectiveness.

I then go on to explain that on every murder or missing-persons special, they always want to know what the last thing was the relative ever heard from the person who is murdered/missing.

Connor rolls his eyes at this. Says that I’m not gonna be murdered and the chances of my being missing are probably slim to none. (I can’t tell if he’s happy about these odds or disappointed.)

I then say those three little words again. I stare at him expectantly….and he dutifully says them back.

Is this effective parenting? Define “effective”. Hey, if I go missing, at least he won’t have some stupid thing to say on his part of the interview.

Then, there was today. I had to clean. I mean, I HAD to clean. It was way, way overdue. So, I got ready. First, I turned on the whole-house-fan to make sure all the rooms were going to have adequate amounts of dust and pollen swirling through them.

WHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I then don my iPod headphones, but do not commence with the singing until I’m running the vacuum cleaner, so as to ensure I don’t sound….well, weird. I figure between the house fan and the vacuum, no-one could possibly hear me.

So, I’m singing. The iPod’s on shuffle and I’ve proactively set the “lock” button, ‘cause I know I’ll be banging it and inadvertently pushing on it during this “who-has-to-go-to-the-gym-when-you-work-this-hard?” period.

At one point, a particular Elton John song comes on and before I realize it, I’m belting out the words:

“SO, SHE LAID DOWN BESIDE ME AGAIN!!!
MY SWEET PAINTED LADY, THE ONE WITH NO NAME!!!
MANY HAVE USED HER, MANY STILL DO!!!!
THERE’S A PLACE IN THE WORLD FOR A WOMAN LIIIIKE YOU!!!!!
OH, SWEET PAINTED LAY-DEE!!! SEEMS IT’S ALWAYS BEEN THE SAME!
GETTIN’ PAID...FOR BEING LAID!!!!
GUESS THAT’S THE NAME OF THE GAME!!!”

That’s when I glance up…and see both boys standing there. Their mouths are open…and they’re horrified. It took me a good 30 seconds to realize the significance of what I’d been singing.

Okay, so I guess I’m out for “Mother of the Year”.