Growing up 101.2


If looks could kill, the doll would have killed me a thousand times over. Not because she hates me; although, she does say she hates me on a daily basis; but rather because I embarrass her without even trying. Welcome to growing up 101, I tell her. She however is not impressed.

I had the occasion to have lunch with a friend of mine Saturday and invited the kids along. They respectfully declined-fearing the restaurant we were going to was “too old” for them. “What does that mean? You eat at Bob Evans all the time with your Grandmother. This place offers better food for the cost” I said. “Mom no thank you, I’m not in the mood” the doll offered; the boy declined saying “I’m good”. I picked up my friend Tricia and together had a lovely lunch, catching up and discussing a wide variety of topics. On our drive home from the restaurant I received a phone call from of very mad and upset doll.

My car utilizes Bluetooth technology so whenever my cell phone rings, the call is automatically transferred to my car radio, thus providing hands free telecommunications. “Mom!! The boy gave me the finger!!” The doll said loudly into the phone receiver. Embarrassed by the nature of the call (with Tricia in the car) I began to smile. Tricia in the meantime covered her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. “Doll…” I tried to say in return but was interrupted by the boy picking up another phone receiver so he could get his two cents in on what led to their latest breakdown in civility. What then ensued was an all out melee between the two; broadcast into my car and out the speakers for all the world (Tricia) to hear.

At some point I made the smart ass comment “You know all of this could have been avoided had you agreed to go out to lunch with me..” The doll clearly upset that I was not yelling at the boy asked “What’s wrong with you?” “Well, let me..” I began, but was interrupted again; this time by the arrival of my hubby, home from work-who was not amused by the fighting going on between the two. “When will you be home?” The doll asked, her voice hitching. “I’m stuck in traffic” I replied, my voice betraying my embarrassment with small laughs. “Mom this is not funny! Why are you laughing? Daddy didn’t have to come in and be so mean”. “I’m not laughing about that-but if you were at work all day on a Saturday and came home to find your children having a screaming fit, wouldn’t you be mad too?” She didn’t offer a reply. “Doll I’ll be home soon, go into your room and just avoid them both.” I suggested and ended the call.

Tricia who graciously didn’t give herself away leaned over and said “Boy you’re a really good mom”. Smiling back at her I said, “Whatever…but now you know for sure, when I write about my kids, I’m pretty spot on.” Shaking her head up and down in agreement she replied “Yep now I know”.
When I arrived home both kids had settled down and apologized to one another. The doll however was quite upset with me. “I don’t understand why you thought it was funny, mom!” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I was laughing with embarrassment…” I began. “What with the two of you yelling and calling one another names over the phone; which by the way was then broadcast over my car speakers, while I drove Tricia home”. I said. The doll froze; her eyes narrowed as she said “What?” In a quiet voice. “Yeah that’s right, my friend heard the entire argument…”

There is a modicum of parental satisfaction when dropping little bomb shells of information on the doll. Like for instance watching the many different shades of red creep across her face. “She heard everything?” The doll said, just an octave above a whisper. “Yep!” I replied and then laughed. “What’s wrong with you?” The doll asked again, not understanding the laugh. “The way I see it doll, I can either laugh about it or cry and laughing takes a lot less work.” Still feeling embarrassed by the whole debacle she finally said “I hate you!”



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