Graduation, Greyhound, Gone!

Sometimes a Great Notion...

This is what’s happening in my house this week, I bet this is happening all over America. It proves that you need incredible strength to raise a teenager; strength to handle their crisis, strength to get through sleepless nights of worry, and strength not to laugh in the face of their moronic logic.

My daughter opened the huge gift wrapped box and stared at her graduation gift in horrified disbelief.... “Luggage? You got me luggage? What did I ever do to deserve luggage for a graduation gift? I need a car!”

““What did I ever do to deserve luggage for a graduation gift?”" I repeated silently in my mind. “Oh, let me count the ways,” I thought, “you have aggravated me to the breadth and depths and height's my soul can reach... You have tested every limit, broken every rule, manipulated every situation you could, lied, gotten your friends to cover your lies in exchange for covering theirs, dated and attempted to bring into my home men I would have scraped off the bottom of my shoe, just to spite me.” That’s what I was thinking, and after all, it’s the thought that counts...

So I said, “It’s a very nice matching six piece set! Monogrammed no less. It wasn’t cheap. 10 year warranty. It will last you a long time. What’s not to like?”

“It’s luggage! LUGGAGE! I’m your child, why are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Wait, I’m confused,“ I said, stifling a giggle, “for the past four years haven’t you said “I’m NOT a child anymore stop treating me like one!” and “I can’t wait to graduate and get away from you! You are such a control freak!” Wasn’t that you?”

“I was a kid. What did you expect me to say?”

“So you’re still a kid and I can expect you to obey me, or you’re not a kid and you’re responsible for yourself just like an.....adult?”

“I’m not a kid, but I’m still your child and your responsibility till I’m 18 and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

Suppressing my laughter and employing years of discipline to keep a straight face while talking to a teenager, I said, “You’re eighteen in 27 days. Adulthood, you know.....that big nasty thing in the rearview mirror of your life I’ve been warning you about...will be here in 28 days. Since you’re not planning on college anymore, you’ll have to make plans, which will include moving out. I thought the luggage would help. It’s not a car, but hey, each piece has wheels like a car and can hold all your clothes like a car, and if you make a ‘broooom, brooom’, sound, you can pretend it’s a car. Luggage is how people moved before cars were invented. I know I’ve said this before, but maybe you’re in a mental space to hear this now....If you got a JOB, you would be paid MONEY which you can use to buy a CAR.”

“Look, I just want to have my Senior summer off, okay? I want have fun with my friends. I’m so stressed out I can’t even think!”

“You finished classes in January. You worked a job three days and quit. Since then, you’ve done whatever you wanted. You’re here once a week to do laundry, eat everything in the kitchen, fight with me, get money and leave. Exactly what stress are you under?” I am now covering my mouth with my hand to help keep from laughing out loud because if I do, she’ll get furious that I’m not taking her seriously and then we’ll have to have this conversation again next week.

“You don’t know anything about my life.”

“So tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Okay don’t. It’s your life.”

“But if I told you what was going on, you’d understand me a lot more and have more sympathy.”

“So tell me.”

“I can’t. It’s too complicated. I have to please everyone, my boyfriend, all my friends, and you too.”

“You don’t please me. You have no plans for your future and you're dating a bum.”

"You are so judgemental! Why can't you give him a chance? Why do you hate him?"

"Well, let's see...he's a high school drop out, 21 years old, did a year in prison for drugs, has a five year old illegitimate child he doesn't pay support for, unemployed, sleeps on bean bags on the floor of his best friends apartment who deals drugs, no car, no money, and uses my daughter for sex and money.... you're right! What's not to like?"

“You see? No one can please you!

“Okay, so if you move in with the guys you’re essentially living with now, you won’t have to please me at all and you’ll have less stress, right?”

“You see how controlling you are? You know I can’t move in with them until I can pay them rent. You always get all up in my business! That’s why I’m never home. I CAN’T LIVE WITH YOU!”

“Wait.....wait.....wait...... I have this really great idea......”