So today, I was sitting at my desk, quietly worrying and checking the clock every two seconds, wondering what was taking him so long to get home from dropping me off at work this morning. Not yet in panic mode, but beginning to think it might not take me as long to get there as I had hoped it would. At the precise moment when I looked at the time on my computer for the eleventy-billionth time, my phone buzzed with a new text message. From The Teenager.
J: Mom, you said Long East/West Street to Main North/South Street, right? (Obviously, I've changed the street names. I'm just not clever enough to give them decent names.)
Me: Yes, why?
J: Well, I haven't seen Main North/South Street, and I'm at the END of Long East/West Street.
Um, what? That is an incredibly LOOONNNGGG street, dude. If he was at the end of it, he was almost to Mexico. Okay, okay. That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it truly is a long road that would find you quite a bit farther than where you need to be if you're at the end of it. And really, dude. You missed a fairly major street.
Me: Are you pulled over? (Because people? This boy has very strict instructions and a driving contract that state quite firmly that there is to be NO, absolutely NO, texting or phone usage while driving. Period.)
So I called him, and gave him directions back to where he could find his way home. To where his father has been waiting all morning after having spent ten minutes giving him advice (read: borderline lecture; pre-emptive, of course!) on just how to avoid getting lost.
Me: You didn't call your dad, did you? (This was more confirming a fact that asking a question. I knew he hadn't call dad!)
J: Oh no. Nope.
Me: We're not gonna tell him you got lost, are we? (Again, confirmation. I know this kid!)
J: Nope. (And you could literally hear the grin on his face when he said that!) He really doesn't need to know. No point in that.
J: Besides...he said he figured he'd get a call from me at 9:10 telling him I was lost and asking for directions. It's 9:30. Why make him feel bad for being wrong?
Why, indeed, son? Merry Christmas, Dad.
Doesn't he look happy? This was 5 minutes after he got the license!
Hosted by Cecily