Saturday, March 21, 2015

I Am The World's Worst Mother

Today I had the joy of spending the morning with my oldest son, because I had to take my car to be serviced. He's 17 years old and about to graduate from high school. He's such a good person, and I'm so proud of him. But I'm not sure how proud of me he is.

Does your teenager do this? Did you do this to your mother when you were a teenager?...

When he drove me, if I said nothing: he would criticize me. If I mentioned his driving, he criticized me. At the grocery store, he said I wasn't polite enough. At the car wash, he said I was TOO polite. Basically, I don't know how to behave in society, according to my beautiful first born child.

Beyond that, he informed me that I yell at him all the time. I told him I didn't want him to go off to college with the memory of a mother who yelled at him for his whole life, so from now on I will never yell at him. I told him that if I wanted to yell, I would simply make a hand gesture (my hand out like a traffic cop), and then he would know that I was upset. He criticized this, and then tried for hours to get me to yell at him. First, when we went to the grocery store, I asked him to drop me off in the front of the store. He stopped and went and stopped and went, so I couldn't get out of the car. I put my hand out like a traffic cop and said: "Please let me out." He refused and drove to the far side of the parking lot and parked in the most distant parking spot. "Thank you," I told him and stuck my hand out in his face, as he turned off the car.

It went on like that for the morning. Loud rap music with the bass up to heart-attack levels. Singing old Queen songs loudly in my ear. My hand flew up in the air so many times, I looked like I was attending a Nazi meeting.

But I did it. I didn't yell.

Was he impressed? Was he proud? Nope. He told me how his friend's mother cooks better than I do.

*raises hand up*


mickey rayfield said...

Now you know why animals often eat their young.

Elise Sax said...


Kimberly Munoz said...

OH Boys. My husband does the stop and go thing to me. In the Walmart parking lot, the mailbox, pretty much every time I try to get in the car!

Elise Sax said...

Kimberly, we were laughing a lot in the parking lot!