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- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Family
- Published: 03/19/2022
Parenting is the most rewarding part of my life. To see my children grow up and become young responsible adults would make any parent feel a sense of pride. However, getting them there was challenging and at times frustrating. There were times my wife and I disagreed with certain tactics and strategies on how to raise or even discipline our children, but we always backed each other up.
It was late October and I was watching West Virginia University play Ohio State in the early evening hours on this particular Saturday. It was only in the first quarter of the game when I heard “boom”, “boom”, “boom” from the dining room into the living room. My wife was making sure I knew she had something on her mind, and it wasn’t good! Her eyes pierced into mine and she raise her right arm pointing her finger at me. Those blues eyes I loved so much turned deadly when she looked directly at me. I was thinking, “Oh Shit I hope this is not about me?” As she came to a stop about ten feet in front of me, with her finger still pointing at me she spoke in a low, stern voice with her jaw clenched she said, “You have to do something about YOUR SON!” We have three children, the two oldest are boys and the youngest is a girl, so I had a 70/30 shot on who was in trouble. Joey was the oldest and was downstairs playing video games, plus he was a rule follower, I knew he was safe. Timmy, the middle child, was out with friends and my gut told me this was the SON she was referring to. Growing up as the second oldest son, I finally understood why my father immediately thought of me when there was a problem. Although that is the subject for another story or novel.
I looked at my wife and said, “What did Timmy do now?”
She went off into a rant and my brain could only process the play-action pass West Virginia was in the process of completing. Oh, I heard her but was only processing small segments of this spout. I heard “disrespect, treating me like crap, rude, insulting me, etc,” The usual stuff when she is referring to him.
“God damn it, I cannot believe it!” I yelled out.
She stopped and paused and replied, “I know, he should not treat me like that!”
I did not have the guts to tell her I was referring to the dropped pass because I had no idea what Timmy did.
Apparently, he needed to be picked up at his friend's house now!
Yes of course it has to be right this second.
As I grabbed the keys from the counter, I was annoyed and started grumbling to myself at the situation I was placed in. During the drive across town, I began to think how I was going to approach this with my 12-year-old son. I had to act that I knew what I was talking about without revealing that I had no clue what he did! It did not matter, I had to discipline the child and make him feel guilty so he could apologize to his mother and I could get back and watch the rest of the game.
The October night was chilly but not cold, the sky was cloudy and the small-town street seemed darker than usual. I got in my silver Toyota Corolla, started her up, and waited a minute or for the heat to kick in. Backing out of the driveway, my mind started to figure out a strategy to get my son to apologize to his mother. As I weaved my way around town nothing was coming to mind. Hell, I was not even sure what he did! As I pulled up to his friend’s house, I caught a glimpse of Timmy peering out the living room window. He scrambled for his things and came running out of the house. He opened the car door and jumped in.
“You got everything?” I asked him
With a quick response, he replied, “Yea! I think so.”
As I looked over my right shoulder and proceeded onto the street, I began my conversation with my son.
“You know,” I said in a serious tone, “your mother is very upset with you?”
I could hear Timmy let out a big sigh.
“So you know where I am going with this?” I asked him
“But Dad”, he replied, “you are only getting mom’s side of the story! I was just. . .”
“I don’t want to hear it!” I said in a more demanding voice, “Just answer me this? Were you rude to your mother?”
Timmy looked down at the floor and in a low voice said, “Yea.”
“Haven’t we been over this a thousand times?”
Never took his eyes off the floor and answered again, “Yea.”
“So how many times do we have to have this conversation?” my voice is getting a little louder.
Timmy answered with the classic, “I don’t know?”
I took a right turn onto our street and proceeded to lecture my son, “You cannot keep treating your mother this way, as a matter of fact, you should not treat anyone that way! If you want respect from people you have to give respect!” I took another left turn down our street, as we drove there was a moment of tense silence. In the rearview mirror, I could see the reflection of the car lights about 30 yards behind me. I slowed down just a little and turned into the driveway. “So you know what you have to do now, don’t you?”
Timmy looked up at me and did not say a word.
My lecture was coming to an end, “You have to go inside and apologize to your mother right now! Do you understand?”
“Yes!” he said as he turned his head to look out the passenger side window.
He continued to look out the window without making a motion to get out of the car.
A slow frustration started to take control of me. If there is one thing I will not stand, it is defiance. He knows what he has to do but is now refusing to take responsibility for it.
“Well! What the heck are you waiting for?” I yelled out.
Timmy whipped his head around and I could see the whites of his eyes, almost in shock that I yelled at him.
“Are you going to go in the house and apologize to your mother?” I asked in a very firm voice
“Yes!’ he replied, “but we are in the neighbor’s driveway!”
I looked out the window and around the car, I missed my driveway by one house. Damn! I thought to myself, I lost all credibility.
I quickly backed out of the neighbor’s driveway and pulled into the correct driveway.
Parenting(Dave Lane)
Parenting is the most rewarding part of my life. To see my children grow up and become young responsible adults would make any parent feel a sense of pride. However, getting them there was challenging and at times frustrating. There were times my wife and I disagreed with certain tactics and strategies on how to raise or even discipline our children, but we always backed each other up.
It was late October and I was watching West Virginia University play Ohio State in the early evening hours on this particular Saturday. It was only in the first quarter of the game when I heard “boom”, “boom”, “boom” from the dining room into the living room. My wife was making sure I knew she had something on her mind, and it wasn’t good! Her eyes pierced into mine and she raise her right arm pointing her finger at me. Those blues eyes I loved so much turned deadly when she looked directly at me. I was thinking, “Oh Shit I hope this is not about me?” As she came to a stop about ten feet in front of me, with her finger still pointing at me she spoke in a low, stern voice with her jaw clenched she said, “You have to do something about YOUR SON!” We have three children, the two oldest are boys and the youngest is a girl, so I had a 70/30 shot on who was in trouble. Joey was the oldest and was downstairs playing video games, plus he was a rule follower, I knew he was safe. Timmy, the middle child, was out with friends and my gut told me this was the SON she was referring to. Growing up as the second oldest son, I finally understood why my father immediately thought of me when there was a problem. Although that is the subject for another story or novel.
I looked at my wife and said, “What did Timmy do now?”
She went off into a rant and my brain could only process the play-action pass West Virginia was in the process of completing. Oh, I heard her but was only processing small segments of this spout. I heard “disrespect, treating me like crap, rude, insulting me, etc,” The usual stuff when she is referring to him.
“God damn it, I cannot believe it!” I yelled out.
She stopped and paused and replied, “I know, he should not treat me like that!”
I did not have the guts to tell her I was referring to the dropped pass because I had no idea what Timmy did.
Apparently, he needed to be picked up at his friend's house now!
Yes of course it has to be right this second.
As I grabbed the keys from the counter, I was annoyed and started grumbling to myself at the situation I was placed in. During the drive across town, I began to think how I was going to approach this with my 12-year-old son. I had to act that I knew what I was talking about without revealing that I had no clue what he did! It did not matter, I had to discipline the child and make him feel guilty so he could apologize to his mother and I could get back and watch the rest of the game.
The October night was chilly but not cold, the sky was cloudy and the small-town street seemed darker than usual. I got in my silver Toyota Corolla, started her up, and waited a minute or for the heat to kick in. Backing out of the driveway, my mind started to figure out a strategy to get my son to apologize to his mother. As I weaved my way around town nothing was coming to mind. Hell, I was not even sure what he did! As I pulled up to his friend’s house, I caught a glimpse of Timmy peering out the living room window. He scrambled for his things and came running out of the house. He opened the car door and jumped in.
“You got everything?” I asked him
With a quick response, he replied, “Yea! I think so.”
As I looked over my right shoulder and proceeded onto the street, I began my conversation with my son.
“You know,” I said in a serious tone, “your mother is very upset with you?”
I could hear Timmy let out a big sigh.
“So you know where I am going with this?” I asked him
“But Dad”, he replied, “you are only getting mom’s side of the story! I was just. . .”
“I don’t want to hear it!” I said in a more demanding voice, “Just answer me this? Were you rude to your mother?”
Timmy looked down at the floor and in a low voice said, “Yea.”
“Haven’t we been over this a thousand times?”
Never took his eyes off the floor and answered again, “Yea.”
“So how many times do we have to have this conversation?” my voice is getting a little louder.
Timmy answered with the classic, “I don’t know?”
I took a right turn onto our street and proceeded to lecture my son, “You cannot keep treating your mother this way, as a matter of fact, you should not treat anyone that way! If you want respect from people you have to give respect!” I took another left turn down our street, as we drove there was a moment of tense silence. In the rearview mirror, I could see the reflection of the car lights about 30 yards behind me. I slowed down just a little and turned into the driveway. “So you know what you have to do now, don’t you?”
Timmy looked up at me and did not say a word.
My lecture was coming to an end, “You have to go inside and apologize to your mother right now! Do you understand?”
“Yes!” he said as he turned his head to look out the passenger side window.
He continued to look out the window without making a motion to get out of the car.
A slow frustration started to take control of me. If there is one thing I will not stand, it is defiance. He knows what he has to do but is now refusing to take responsibility for it.
“Well! What the heck are you waiting for?” I yelled out.
Timmy whipped his head around and I could see the whites of his eyes, almost in shock that I yelled at him.
“Are you going to go in the house and apologize to your mother?” I asked in a very firm voice
“Yes!’ he replied, “but we are in the neighbor’s driveway!”
I looked out the window and around the car, I missed my driveway by one house. Damn! I thought to myself, I lost all credibility.
I quickly backed out of the neighbor’s driveway and pulled into the correct driveway.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Valerie Allen
09/26/2022Cute and funny story! Oh, the frustration and joy of parenting. I've raised six kids, so get it ~
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Shirley Smothers
09/26/2022Parenthood. What a rewarding frustrating confusion time of life. I enjoyed your story very much. Made me think of times my now Adult children were young.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Kristin Dockar
09/26/2022I enjoyed this and am reminded how it never stops, being a parent and now a grandparent. To date: 16 year Old grandson intoxicated on Saturday night, 14 year old grandson : My daughter called into school re his attitude to learning. 18 year Old grandson coming over later to discuss his 'identity'. I should write a book!!!
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Lillian Kazmierczak
09/25/2022Dave, we all have those moments...laughing at yourself is the only way to get through. Just think your son will share that story with your grand kids one day! Congratulations on short story star of the day!
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Gerald R Gioglio
03/30/2022Loved the story, Dave. Like, "Oops, there it is." These days my grandkids would call my faux pas,"Just another silly Pop trick. Sigh...
Jerry
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Dave Lane
04/05/2022Thank you! Yes it was an Oops moment, I had many of those moments with my kids.
Take acre
COMMENTS (7)