The sound of Surfer Dude spewing eleven year old invective is wafting down the hall toward my bedroom. He's in a snit, undies completely in a bunch, totally convinced that he has the most unreasonable mother on the planet. The fact that Gumby is poking him just for the heck of it isn't helping, but SD is so mad at me he's almost not even noticing that his brother is tormenting him.
Wow. What could I possibly have done to the kid now? What horrible, awful, control-freaky, unreasonable, totally out of left field thing have I come up with this time?
I made him shower. With soap. I am a devil, aren't I?
I drove the pick-up leg of the soccer carpool, and when the three pre-teen boys got in my backseat after ninety minutes of practicing in a warm rain, I thought I was going to die. Not only were they covered in mud, but you could almost taste the stench. And, it must be said, most of it was emanating from my kid. He has a world class shower aversion and is convinced that the festering smell under his arms is kind of cool to scare the girls with.
I've been waiting patiently for years for him to grow out of this, but it isn't happening yet. I think Sasquatch was a little older when he decided all on his own that he needed a shower a day, and while I really don't want to look too hard at his motivation I sure do appreciate the end result. Gumby is straddling the two, not resisting too hard, but not volunteering eagerly either. Maybe it's because SD is the most athletic, but the kid is ripe a good portion of the time. His socks alone defy description, and whenever any of this is pointed out his pride is palpable. Everyone needs a hobby and his is deliberately smelling bad.
And the muttering still coming from his room? Is because he's clean. And shampooed. (Uh oh. Forgot to smell his head to double check that. Crap. Scratch shampooed.) Oh, well. He's clean. And that makes me very happy indeed.
At least until Child Protective Services shows up at my door to see what I've done to the poor kid this time.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Posted by the rotten correspondent at 12:02 AM