Coulda Woulda Shoulda

Kathryn: (Sighs dramatically) “The last few days sucked.”

Connor (13): “I know, Mom. But you handled the whole debacle with dignity and panache.”

K: (Frowns) “How do you even know words like ‘debacle’ and ‘panache’? But you really think I’ve handled the last few days with poise and confidence?”

C: “Well, no…you were a mess. I was just being polite. I do believe you hold the record for the most emotions displayed over a 48-hour period.”

K: (Annoyed) “Are you saying I’m emotional? ‘Cause that’s a real ‘guy’ thing to say and could seriously cause me to misunderstand and think you’re turning into some kind of a male chauvinist pig. And that would be soooo not cool.”

C: “I didn’t say you were emotional. I simply stated you’d displayed an array of emotions. I’ve documented them, if you’re interested.”

K: “You’ve what? You’ve documented….you’ve what? Were you filming me?”

C: “In a matter of speaking…yes. I’ve kept my own pictorial-diary over the last few days…ya know, in case it comes up.”

K: (Suspicious) “Um. Can I see?”

C: “You won’t get mad?”

K: “Nooooo! Of course not! Besides, it’s all water under the bridge now…as it were.”

C: “What does that even mean? As opposed to what? Water over the bridge?”

K: (Sighs) “Just show me the pictorial account, dammit.”

C: “FINE. So, this is you waking up Tuesday morning.”

K: “What’s wrong with my hair? My hair looks nothing like that!”

C: (Rolls eyes) “This has nothing whatsoever to do with your hair. I’ve captured your emotions. Focus, Mom.”

K: (Mumbles) “Fine…but I’m not digging that cowlick in the middle...and you're starting to sound more and more like Clinton. I’m just saying. I do look happy, though. So naive…I’ve no clue what’s to come…do I??”

C: “Nope. Then you get the call about Kevin and you race to the hospital.”



K: “Aw. How do you know what emotion I displayed? You were at school.”

C: (Shrugs) “I imagined it.”

K: (Smiles) “Well done. Then what?”

C: “Then, I come home from school and discover I’ve got the house all to myself.”



K: “Connor! You were happy to be all alone?”

C: “Uh-huh….but it was short-lived…’cause then Taylor came home.”


K: “HA! Is this actually Taylor…or your reaction to seeing Taylor?”

C: “It doesn’t really matter…they’re the same.”

K: “Ah.What’s happening here?”



C: “This is your face when you shot into the garage with your car after careening up the ice-skating-rink formerly known as our driveway.”

K: “I was scared.”

C: “Yeah…I got that. And this is your face when you saw it was 53 degrees in the house.”



K “Oh, I was soooo done. Thank God for space heaters, though….and emergency furnace guys named 'Bill'.”

C: “Yup. By the time the furnace guy worked his magic and you’d cleaned up from dinner, I could see you were right on the edge.”



K: “What does that say? ‘The lip’?? What’s the edge?”

C: “You were DONE. You were this close to a complete meltdown.”


K: “I was NOT!”

C: “Oh, yes you were…”

K: (Nods wearily) “Yes, I was….”

C: “So, I told you to go to bed...and I’d take care of sending the dog out later....and give him his medicine, yada, yada. When I checked on you later, you looked like this.”



K: (Sniffs) “You’re a good son.”

C: “I know.”

K: "Sorry about the Clinton comment..."

C: "It's okay. I know you meant it in the nicest possible way."

K: “But, seriously dude….my hair? WTF??”