What I did on my summer vacation, Boy Edition

6:45 A.M. Bound out of bed (except I don't really use words like "bound" because I am 7.)

6:46 A.M. Pee all over toilet seat.

6:48 A.M. Leave bathroom in search of Mom. (Notice how I didn't bother to flush. I know I could, but then I wouldn't get to see my mom go apoplectic half an hour from now when she sees. Re: apoplectic, see note on "bound" above.)

6:50 A.M. Find Mom in front of computer downstairs, trying to make it work, and using all the words she tells me I shouldn't repeat at school. Especially not in front of my teacher. But that if I do, I should tell the teacher it was my dad who taught them to me. Give my Mom a hug and wipe my hand on her shirt.

"Can I watch T.V?"

Mom says, "Not for love or money, mister."

Yeah, but I don't really know what that means, so I just go turn it on.

Mom widens her eyes in that look that she thinks says "warning," but really, who is she kidding?I just give her that look the cat did in Shrek and I get to do whatever I want.

But this computer thing is apparently making her cranky (something about leaving the cord at the beach and not being able to recharge the battery) and now that she has no computer to play on, I guess that means she's got nothing better to do than raise me, because she stomps on over and turns off the TV and says, "Listen, buddy, we are not spending our summer watching TV. Go read a book or play the piano or go.back.to.bed."

Well, duh.

Back to bed I go.

But first I ask if I can play Wii.

Mom squints her mean eyes at me.

"I'll take that as a no," I say, as I go back upstairs. I like to get the last word.

I am busy staring at the ceiling when Mom walks past my room.

"You're just going to lay there?" she asks. Somewhat indignantly, I think. Also, she may have said "lie" there. She gets those mixed up. So much for being an English major. She's always telling me THAT was a mistake, and I guess she's right, if they can't even teach her the difference between lay and lie. And she's like a hundred. She should know by now, doncha think?

Anyway... where was I?

Oh yeah.

"Can I watch TV?"

Mom just looks at me. I think she is trying to give me a certain kind of look, one that says something like, "Are you out of your ever-loving mind?" but whatever. I just ignore her.

"Wii?"

She does a gaspy thing and walks away.

"OK, thanks, " I call out and run downstairs before she can catch me.

But this lack of a computer thing is working against me, though, because Mom is right behind me two seconds later.

"Are you kidding me, mister? I said no. If you even say the words Wii or TV in the next three sentences you will lose it for the rest of the day. Are we clear?"

"Yes.
The whole day?
Really?
Can I play Wii?"

I laugh because I am way too smart and young for this old, tired English major of a lady. And I will wear her down.

I hear her in the kitchen taking deep breaths. I bet she's wondering if she can open the wine yet.

Mom says we have to eat breakfast and get ready for camp. But really she is just stalling for something to do, because neither of those things will take up the two hours until camp starts.

"If I eat, will you let me watch TV?"

"NO. WE ARE GOING TO CAMP!"

"Yeah, but before camp."

"NO!"

"If I promise to turn it off right when you say? No tantrums? Please?"

Mom's face is a little ... stiff and red. But she doesn't answer. I think she is trying to ignore me, but I tend to just take silence as a yes, so this is a good sign. I eat my breakfast.

Then I quick run upstairs when I'm done so I don't have to clear the table.

This causes some commotion. It's a little boring to go into, frankly, but basically it results in Mom coming upstairs, giving me another lecture, me going back downstairs, (listening to my mom the whole while complaining about how she should have great legs by now what with all this up and down stairs nonsense) and putting the dishes...

next to the sink.

And then dashing back off to my room. Heh heh.

I hear a yelp of frustration downstairs. Also some yelling about when is school going to start. And also how that this is why people send their kids to boarding school.

Mom stomps back upstairs (I guess she's not kidding about those legs...) gives up on a lecture, and puts out some clothes for me to wear. "Puts" is a euphemism, really. She throws them. Right at me. I'm pretty sure that's not good parenting.

"If I put them on, can I watch TV?"

"You know what?" her voice is getting pretty loud now. "You just lost TV for the whole day, mister. This is unbearable. TV is not supposed to rule your life. Go play. Go read a book. Go do piano. You will not be watching TV today. Do you understand me?"

"How about Wii?"

Mom's head comes as close to exploding as I've ever seen it. This will be a record, though, because it is only 7:30 a.m.

I put on my clothes, give my teeth a quick brushing - barely, really, my mom always says my dungeon breath will keep the girls away, and I'm thinking that's a good thing. Then I go downstairs, and assume the position.

When my mom comes down a little while later, I am still there. She sees me in my TV chair, and looks surprised, and comes rushing over to yell.

But ha! I fooled her. The TV is not even on. Take that, lady!

She looks at the TV, and then back at me. And at the TV again, just to make sure.

She shakes her head, real slow. I can tell she is really impressed with me.

"You mean... you just sat here, this whole time, watching a turned-off TV?"

"Yup," I say proudly.

She turns away. I think it's to hide one of those tears Moms sometimes get when they're proud of you. I'm not sure why she's muttering something about racoons, though.


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You know who's not raccoon-like at all? Those guys over humor-blogs of course.