Ah, the joys of motherhood. The trial and error…the give and take…the uncontrollable sobbing.
Oh, wait…that’s just me.
Connor is heading off on his 8th grade rite of passage to Washington DC. Five hundred and fifty smackeroos of my hard-earned green so he can tour museums and take cell photos of many, many monuments. Yes, folks...he's travelling to the home of our nation’s capital and, more importantly, land of GayGuy/StraightGuy. Honestly, Connor has no sense of how to prioritize.
Turning 14 also seems to have eliminated any ability he may have had to communicate effectively:
Connor: “Mom. You need to bring my suitcase into the school tomorrow between 3 and 4:30 or between 6 and 7.”
Kathryn: “What? Why?”
Connor: “I don’t know. You just have to do it. I suggest the 6 to 7 slot.”
Kathryn: “Wait. I’m confused. Why do they need to see your suitcase? Are they concerned it might not fit on the bus? What the hell is wrong with these people? Don’t they have anything else to do but critique the size of our suitcases? There’s more to a person than their luggage, you know…there’s empathy and having a killer sense of humor.”
Connor (Stares): “Are we having the same conversation? What the hell?”
Kathryn: “Connor. Language.”
Connor: “But, you just said it. Do you not hear yourself?”
Kathryn: “What?”
Connor: “Huh? Oh. Ha…so not funny.”
Kathryn: “This is unacceptable. I’m calling the school.”
Connor: “Whatever.”
Kathryn (To lady at the middle school): “I know I’m probably the 4,357th person to call with questions….”
Lady at Middle School: “Actually, there have been 4,358. Good guess, though. Are you calling about the suitcases? ‘Cause 14-year-old boys are notorious for their lack of conveying information properly.”
Kathryn: “Thank you.”
Lady: “You’re welcome. We need parents to bring the packed suitcase to the school the day before we leave so we can check for contraband and avoid confusion during the 5:45am drop-off.”
Kathryn: “I’m sorry…contraband? Are we talking cigarettes and scotch here? ‘Cause I can assure you that----...wait. Did I just hear 5:45am? You did not just say that. I thought it was...like, 7.”
Lady: “More like energy drinks, PlayStations or weapons. Yes, 5:45. If you go to the school district website, click on middle schools, then click on our school, then 8th grade, then the tab for the Washington DC trip, it’s right there. You can’t miss it.”
Kathryn: “Okay. Weapons?? You’re joking.”
Lady: “Oh, you’d be surprised what we’ve found. Once, a kid had packed a huge rock.”
Kathryn: “Well, I don’t think you can judge them based on what they like to eat. I mean, maybe they were vegetarians…or maybe they’re training to be a chef or something. I don’t think that would make them a possible threat to society…although maybe the hot oil could splatter or something…”
Lady (Sighs): “I said rock. Not wok.”
Kathryn: “Oh.” (Silence) “So, I guess I’ll see you at 5:45 then.”
Kathryn (To Connor): “Have you heard anything about some kid packing a rock for his 8th grade trip?”
Connor: “No…but we heard a story about some kid who put Neosporin on his leg and he was allergic and he almost died. What idiot packs a rock??”
I then asked Connor if he’d forgotten to hand me any pertinent paperwork. He said, “I doubt it”. We then proceeded to empty the contents of his book bag:
Um. You be the judge...
he had gum - fresh breath is always a priority.
5:45am? holy crap, batman! that is 2:45am my time!! at least you live where that is a decent hour (you like my lack of logic there? it's the meds again, I swear).
and what's with kids these days thinking that just because we drop 4 letter words, they can too? when I was there age, I knew you had to age into that right. swear words were fine at school, but at home you had to be 19 to use them ... and at least 20 feet away from the fastest adult.
I feel for you. I can't imagine dealing with an 8th grader of either sex. Middle school age kids are tough. The whole language issue continues straight through until boys become men. But, you already know that.
Got your message. Been crazy. Will call soon. Can't wait to hear about your crazy life on the phone.
Lol...I love that you actually emptied out the backpack and posted the photo! You are too much!
Connor...have a good time, don't take any pills, drinks or neosporin you might be offered. Just say NO Connor.
Kathryn? What are you gonna do with yourself with all "da boys" gone?
Not being in my wheelhouse I await the comment.
Mind you I did in primary school, age 8ish, bring one of the houses chefs knifes to class. I was told on and have even today have issues with the snitch. Nowadays I would be on some sort of watch list. Hm, maybe I am. But all I was doing was winning a bet, and preventing the accusation of scaredy-cat.
Still, you'd never know he might find at the Smithsonian a love for the writings of Ur, Akkad, Nimrud or Nineveh like I did at the Louve.
Har! Hilarious conversation, Kathryn. You've got my sympathy about the early start. All flights to get off this island always seems to be before 5 AM.
Love the book bag photo! Just like Sean's (9th grade)! All of those markers and pens would be stuff he's found on the floor of the hall in school. And Sean usually has bits and pieces of stuff he's 'taken apart' stuffed in there as well.
Ahh the joys of communicating with boys. Makes you feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland, doesn't it?
Funny, the contents of MC's bookbag look exactly like that.
Have fun, Connor. Call your mom every night (it'll make her feel better) and stay away from those Neosporine and rock-toting kids - everyone knows they are Trouble!
diane rene: Ha! You are too funny! The irony is that your time difference kinda made sense. How scary is that? As for the gum? We all know how important it is to have minty fresh breath when you're being fresh. Pun intended.
Jen: Hey! I have absolutely no idea what it's like to be crazy. (She said with a totally straight face) I know that I never could speak that way when I was his age. We'll touch base eventually...you can count on it!
Alicia: Ha! I'm gonna work! I'm always working! Poor Connor-he's so freakin' bored riding on that bus. It's something like a 7 hour run. I think he's just getting there about now. And you KNOW I'd do anything for you, including incurring Connor's wrath to take that photo!
A wok! lmaooooooooooooooo
I'm thinking it may be a boy thing because my nephew never, EVER gives his dad the correct information about school.
Nephew: Dad, we have a school trip next week.
Dad: OK, where to?
Nephew: Museum of Neuros History?
Dad: The what? Who's neuro?
Nephew: I don't know dad that's what the teacher said.
Dad: Are you sure it's neuro kiddo? There's no such museum.
Nephew: Dad, it says it RIGHT HERE (hands his father the permission slip then goes) oh.....
Boys or maybe it's just kids, lollll I think they start early on that selective hearing thing lollll
We welcome them all to our fair city! Now tell them to keep it down.
I guess the lid has finally been blown off our rock smuggling scheme. Have to come up with something new now.
You didn't sign up to chaperon? I bet he'll have a blast and might even go to sleep on the bus, something you won't do because you'll be worrying (sorry to rub it in). Have a good day!
Iplead a FIFTH and THAT'S why I have no chillins. Because I 'd be in jail for murder! You are a Saint--all mothers are saints! Thanks MOM--but days were simpler for my Mom. Washington didn't have any monuments when I was growing up. OK--maybe one or two--but......
Hugs sweeti....see ya at the Waffle House at 3:00 am--pre-drop off!
J
Vince: Woah. I don't know whether to feel more annoyed with the snitch or horrified that you brought a knife to school on a dare! I can just picture an 8-yr-old Vince being all indignant for getting caught...
Alan W. Davidson: Ha! What is it with these boys?? Of course, having never been one, I wouldn't know. And you guys say that we gals are hard to understand. A 5am flight? I'd be asleep before take-off...good thing I'm not expected to fly the plane!
Gigi: Oh, ain't it the truth! Connor's evidently having a blast. How do I know this? Because the only text I've rec'd said, "I'm having a blast." Oh and he says he's "tired as hell". Again with the language...
Loredana: Ha! "Neuros History"! Yup...that whole tone sounds all too familiar! I suppose I should feel special that he ever talks to me at all...but the one-syllable responses just slay me.
I'm sure he probably figured that if he missed the pickup time you could just drive him to DC.
You failed the psychic test. 5th grade Mom's are required to be psychic to know what is going on. You passed all the other parts, but you need to study up a little on the psychic thing.
Boys. 'Nuf said.
:)
I know I have all this coming to me too when my boy gets older. I love your dialogue with the middle school lady!
Lovely dialogue ;) I must use it in our conversations
Post a Comment