I sometimes hear from amused readers after a post where Son cracks wise like in the recent Cool Customers and earlier entries What You Get For What You’ve Got and That’s The Word On The Street. Maybe people are reminded of their own kids or themselves or whoever, but I can say that having known Son for 23 years, he has always had this talent.
During the first winter after my divorce when Son was about fourteen, a snowstorm was predicted for overnight and I told him it was his responsibility to shovel the driveway in the morning so I could drive him to school. Daughter walked to her high school but Son’s school required driving. He nodded that he understood.
Running late the next morning, I threw open the front door and saw that nothing had been shoveled. Nada. Zippo. I looked daggers at Son as we trudged through the snow to the car but he acted serenely oblivious. Sitting together in the car as it warmed up, I chose to convey my anger with sarcasm as is too often my style. “You know,” I began wistfully, staring out the front windshield, “I wish I’d had a son so the driveway would be shoveled right now.” Looking straight ahead he responded just as wistfully, “Me, too. I would have loved a brother.”
Husband and I met and married while the kids were still in their teens. At the time we took our honeymoon cruise to the Mediterranean, Daughter was away at college in Boston and Son was a sophomore in high school. We worked out a schedule where Son would stay at various friends’ homes and would only be alone in our house the weekend we returned.
We called him on the house phone the Saturday night before we came back and there was an unusual noise level in the background as we spoke. He assured me it was the TV but I found that hard to swallow. Then he said he thought we were losing the connection so he’d have to hang up. He gave a quick goodbye and was gone. I may have been born at night but not last night.
I scrutinized the house when we got home and found only the general disarray a teenager would wreak if alone for a weekend. I asked him straight out if he’d had anyone over while we were gone. He said absolutely not and added that he was hurt I was being so suspicious. I felt badly for hounding him.
The next night I was talking on the kitchen phone and needed a pen so I reached over to the porcelain basket where we keep our miscellaneous stuff. I couldn’t locate a pen right away so while still talking I grabbed the porcelain handle of the basket to pull it closer to me. The entire handle came off in my hand. It had been broken clean off and propped back on top.
Turning around, I saw Son getting a Snapple from the fridge and I waved the amputated handle in his face.
OSV: Look at this! What happened?!
He shrugged innocently.
SON: I have no idea. No one told me it broke.
OSV: I thought you said no one was over.
SON: That’s right. So how could anyone have told me it broke?
He left the room shaking his head and his Snapple. It’s like grabbing at sand.
Daughter’s Featured Fotos raise More Questions Than Answers
mr. truck
the biggest shoe ever
living in the subway
is this the signal for the green lantern?