Dear Son
My dear, darling son
It is completely unnecessary to inform me, every five minutes, that your 17th birthday is on Saturday. Trust me. I know. Both your father and I were there , and still are. Though admittedly i was totally unconscious at the moment of your birth, your father assures me that it was you that was pulled out of my body, kicking and screaming. When I regained consciousness and saw you for the first time, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were indeed mine. It was either you or my own father shrunk and younger, but we were connected in a very meaningful way. Not only were both your father and I there, but for 10 years before your birth we worked hard to bring you into existence. Someone convinced us that having children would make life complete, and we wanted to join in on that experiment. We discovered that having children means your life often involves a lot more gear as well as being fuller. You will discover the same at some point in your life. At least you better- I want grandchildren someday !
But let us return to your birthday. You do not want to drive, and for that I and the general public are grateful for. I have seen how you operate with video games. Consequentially this means I have not had to even entertain any thoughts of getting you a car. Your desires are for video games. Lots of them. And watching one upcoming show. You decided that this would be how we should celebrate 6 weeks ago, and have reminded me of this fact every 5 minutes since then. In your defense, I am old and I do forget things, but your actions would indicate that I have end stage Alzheimer's or something. I do not. While I am your grandmother's granddaughter, I am not her.
You are a great kid, but you are beginning to GRATE on my nerves big time. Same with your father. We are old, getting tired, and you are making us want to run away for a night at the Sybaris. Not for the exciting sexual possibilities, but rather to have a chance to do naked cannonballs in the pool just to watch the splashing. AND to spend two hours without hearing about what game you desire for the millionth time.I know your birthday is Saturday ( see, I mentioned it twice in one post because I do remember), and I am thrilled that you are in my life. But at the moment you are on the verge of driving me totally insane.
Your tired mom
It is completely unnecessary to inform me, every five minutes, that your 17th birthday is on Saturday. Trust me. I know. Both your father and I were there , and still are. Though admittedly i was totally unconscious at the moment of your birth, your father assures me that it was you that was pulled out of my body, kicking and screaming. When I regained consciousness and saw you for the first time, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were indeed mine. It was either you or my own father shrunk and younger, but we were connected in a very meaningful way. Not only were both your father and I there, but for 10 years before your birth we worked hard to bring you into existence. Someone convinced us that having children would make life complete, and we wanted to join in on that experiment. We discovered that having children means your life often involves a lot more gear as well as being fuller. You will discover the same at some point in your life. At least you better- I want grandchildren someday !
But let us return to your birthday. You do not want to drive, and for that I and the general public are grateful for. I have seen how you operate with video games. Consequentially this means I have not had to even entertain any thoughts of getting you a car. Your desires are for video games. Lots of them. And watching one upcoming show. You decided that this would be how we should celebrate 6 weeks ago, and have reminded me of this fact every 5 minutes since then. In your defense, I am old and I do forget things, but your actions would indicate that I have end stage Alzheimer's or something. I do not. While I am your grandmother's granddaughter, I am not her.
You are a great kid, but you are beginning to GRATE on my nerves big time. Same with your father. We are old, getting tired, and you are making us want to run away for a night at the Sybaris. Not for the exciting sexual possibilities, but rather to have a chance to do naked cannonballs in the pool just to watch the splashing. AND to spend two hours without hearing about what game you desire for the millionth time.I know your birthday is Saturday ( see, I mentioned it twice in one post because I do remember), and I am thrilled that you are in my life. But at the moment you are on the verge of driving me totally insane.
Your tired mom