April 26, 2006

I Wanna Be Sedated

I was getting ready for work this morning when I was greeted by the sweetest 6 year old face, blondish/red hair, clad in his little blue school uniform, looking up at me and from his mouth I heard the following words uttered, “Mom. Can I have some more cake?”

Cake? More? Did I say before it was… morning?

I said to him, “Cake. What do you mean can you have more cake?”

Bones: I had cake for breakfast, Mom. Can I have some more.

Me: *blink*

Bones: Well.

Me: You had cake? We don’t have cake.

Bones: Yes we do. Dad gave it to me for breakfast.

Me: *blink*

Bones:

Me: Dad gave you CAKE for breakfast?

His father walked in and I stared him down and said incredulously, “You gave our hyperactive child CAKE for breakfast?”

My Better Half, who evidently sometimes utilizes poor breakfast judgment: Pound cake. It isn’t cake.

Me: *blink* (I’m speechless here and thinking, “It’s not cake?” Did I hear this correctly? Pound CAKE is not CAKE? My husband who has a seriously advanced degree in the sciences, who could have taught organic chemistry, who truly understands interactions of compounds, says to me, pound CAKE is not CAKE? I was stunned. Speechless. Staring. Blinking. Did I say stunned?)

BH: It’s not. It’s pound cake. It’s full of eggs and flour.

Me: Babe. And SUGAR. It is full of SUGAR. It is pound cake as it has a POUND of all ingredients including a POUND OF SUGAR.

BH: Oh. Sorry.

And the whole time Bones is watching us and I know he was thinking, “Well? Will I or will I not get more cake for breakfast?”

And so I looked at him and said, “Follow your father. He will get you something for breakfast. I don’t want to know…”

But I suspect he had more cake, but do not know for sure.

And that, my friends, is how my day started… and oh… there is so… much… more.

The rest is in the extended entry as it is long and will take up too much blog:

I took the boys to school, where I ran into the principal and we were discussing kids and I made the statement, “Well, you will never hear from my lips, “NOT MY SON!” Instead you will always hear, “OK. What did he do?” I am raising boys, not Saints.” And he had five boys of his own and he laughed.

A couple hours later I was at work, coming to the realization with Mr. Magoo that if we teamed up together against the people who bug the crap out of us, we would both get fired, but that’s another blog story, probably located above this one, when my cell phone rang. It was the principal.

He laughed and said, “You jinxed yourself Mrs. L.”

Me: What? Oh. Wait. Holy crap. What did he do?

And he laughed again and proceeded to tell me that ‘he’ did something in the cafeteria, disobeyed a teacher and was on lunch detention the next day and had to miss recess.

The problem is… I never bothered to ask who ‘he’ was. I just assumed… Bones.

And I’m thinking to myself, “CAKE! IT WAS THAT FRICKIN’ CAKE THAT WASN’T CAKE! IT SPOOLED HIM UP AND NOW LOOK! GRRRR!”

Oh yes, in my head, my spouse was the recipient of a lot of my anger. Cake for breakfast. HUMPF!

After school, Son#1 had band practice, and I picked up Son#2 and Bones. As Bones got in the car I said, “Do you have something you need to tell me?

He looked at me blankly and said, “No. Why?”

Me: Are you sure? Are you really sure?

Bones: Ummm… Derek was really mean to me again in school today. Did you talk to my teacher about that?

Now, I’m really really frustrated. “Bones. Did you see Mr. H. today?”

Bones: No.

Me (on the verge of being pretty pissed): Don’t lie. You have lunchtime detention tomorrow, right?

Bones: What? NO I don’t! Mr. H is wrong! I never even saw him!

And this… went on… or some variation thereof… for nearly an hour, until band practice was over. Oh and at some point Bones said to me, no joke, “Mom. I know you’re mad I had cake today for breakfast, but I wasn’t whacked at school. I was fine!”

“I wasn’t whacked at school”? Whacked? Heh.

Over and over we went over this, I kept my cool, he flat out denying he got in trouble at lunch. Finally in exasperation he said, ‘I don’t get why you don’t believe me’ and I fired off, “Because YOU LIE to me all the time!”

And now I’m quietly freaking out inside. I mean, my boy is looking me straight in the face, sweet cherubic, blue eyed, reddish blonde hair, smoochy cheeks and swearing on his own Mother’s future grave, which he is quickly leading her to, that he DID NOT get in trouble in school and running through my mind was something like the following:

“Holy crap. I gave birth to a pathological liar. Oh… My… God. He is looking me straight in the eye and denying it! He is emphatic! He believes his whole lie! Holy crap! What if… what if… what if he ends up in prison one day… this lying… he’ll be some CEO of a corporation and embezzle a billion dollars and look them all in the face emphatically denying AND BELIEVING he either didn’t do it or was entitled! Oh no! We need therapy! Oh My God!!!”

Or something along those lines… very close. I assure you.

And as we were pulling into the school parking lot to pick up my eldest, suddenly something occurred to me and I said to my 2nd son, “It wasn’t you was it? Are you on lunch detention?” and he said, “No Mom. I’ve never even been on time out in school. I’ve never served a detention…”

And I don’t know why, but suddenly something felt oh so very wrong with the entire scenario. We got into school and I saw my eldest and I said, “Dude. Are you serving lunch detention tomorrow?”

And he said, “Yeah. It’s not what you think, but I got in trouble in the cafeteria.”

And Bones looked at me and said, “SEE?!! SEE!!!”

Bones was innocent. Good Lord. I did apologize and we’re laughing about it, but it just goes to show… Bones is the one that runs me ragged the most. I just assumed it was he. And every single person who has heard this story (and there have been many) thinks it’s a riot as they know Bones and realize, Bones would be everyone’s first guess. History and all that stuff...

I am hoping Bones has learned the importance of telling the truth. I am using this lesson for him wisely.

Meanwhile, it turns out my eldest had a choice, snitch on some friends or serve lunch detention. He decided he’d rather serve lunch detention and miss recess. He made the decision. He has to live with it.

And my husband has learned… no cake for breakfast or his wife’s head spins around 8 times and she hurls green goop.

And I have learned that I must always ask, "Which boy?!" as none of them are Saints. I knew that. I just need to remember to ask.

Oh and as we were making our way back home, and there was yelling, laughing, screaming in my van, as the headache was setting in as I thought of the band concert within hours, the homework, trying to get dinner prepared, the song, "I Wanna Be Sedated" by the Ramones came on the radio.

So I cranked it up and thought, "Yes. I just want to be numb to it all. Just for a minute... I'll take a minute. I wanna be Sedated."

I need this song on my iPod. This appears to be my theme song as I get ready to depart for Austin on Friday morning:

I wanna Be Sedated by The Ramones:

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go
I wanna be sedated
Nothing to do nowhere to go
I wanna be sedated

Just get me to the airport and put me in a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can’t control my fingers
I can’t control my brain
oh no oh ho

Just put me in a wheelchair and get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco
I can’t control my fingers
I can’t control my toes
oh no oh ho

Posted by Boudicca at April 26, 2006 10:30 PM | TrackBack
Comments

Gotta say I'm with your son on the not ratting part. As long as it doesn't involve bodily harm - one must always put that exception in. Unfortunately, acquiring a rep for being a tattletale is far worse in the long run than serving a detention. School interactions are a fine line juggling act (I never did it well).

OTOH - I'm ROFLMAO over Bones and your husband and cake for breakfast. That's directly from a Bill Cosby episode!

Posted by: Teresa at April 26, 2006 10:44 PM

I'm cool with him not ratting. It wasn't a life or death event. It was his choice though.

And as for Bill Cosby... when the guys at work heard this story, my Tech Lead actually told me the episode about cake for breakfast. I said, "Bill Cosby led my life before me!"

Posted by: Bou at April 26, 2006 10:47 PM

... "Dad is GREAT.... gives us chocolate CAKE.."..... hey, it's bad either way you slice it....

Posted by: Eric at April 26, 2006 11:14 PM

That's my hubby's favorite comedy routine EVER.

Posted by: caltechgirl at April 27, 2006 03:36 AM

Evidently your husband took the Clinton philosophy and logic course. If Oral S*X isn't S*X then Pound CAKE isn't CAKE. Just because it contains the word doesn't mean that it falls in that category.

Posted by: Sticks at April 27, 2006 04:13 AM

My dad used to recite that routine as he was giving us chocolate cake or brownies for breakfast!

And, sorry, hun, you can't steal my theme song, but you can borrow it for a couple days. I do believe it is in my ipod.

Posted by: oddybobo at April 27, 2006 09:17 AM

Pound cake! Even better if toasted lightly and buttered. Yowza!

Posted by: Elisson at April 30, 2006 05:05 PM

My friend Steia Rockhold also had lunch detention as well, just like you did on Wednesday, April 26th, 2006 for backtalking to a teacher in class the morning of Wednesday, April 26th, 2006 ! ! !

Posted by: Brooke Leis at May 23, 2006 12:13 PM

Did you know that Steia Rockhold of Kimball Nebraska has been punished a lot these last two months of this school year. She just had lunch detention again on Monday and Tuesday, May 22nd, and 23rd, 2006!!! She got punished for saying a bad word in P.E. class on Friday, May 19th, 2006!!!

Posted by: Leis Child at June 7, 2006 12:31 PM