So a gaggle of girls showed up at my door step last night; they all seemed like good kids.
I found out who the mystery girl was who hugged me. I'd gone to bed by the time they left (my husband took the shift to stay up... we don't do mixed company here without an adult, no matter how nice everyone seems), and so the huggy girl sent my son a text this morning and told him to thank me for cooking them dinner and how she had a wonderful time.
Hey, the modern form may be txt'ing, but I'm cool. I like that she took the time this morning to pass the word through Ringo.
For this story, for the my Dad, so he'll laugh, I'll refer to one of the girls as Jane of the Murdering Campbells.
You see, not only is my parents' household one of the only households in America where you awaken to an answering machine message being left, wondering about the ordering of the haggis, it is still probably one of the only American households who refer to anyone whose last name is Campbell as 'of the Murdering Campbells'.
So much can be done with that. Glenn of the Murdering Campbells. Murdering Campbells Soup. Those little round faced tots that used to adorn the can could very well be thought to eventually turn into Murdering Campbells.
(For those not in the know, this would be referencing the Massacre of Glencoe. I made mention of this to Eric's wife once, the reference of my father to the Murdering Campbells and she was much in agreement. A Scotsman's memory is long...)
So I'm on my laptop paying bills and whatnot when I hear from the family room, a girl's shrill voice proclaiming her undying love and admiration for Justin Bieber.
I'm completely thrown. I had heard that girls were in love with him, but I guess in my head I thought, "No friend of my sons' have that little common sense..." or perhaps it was along the lines of "Ringo's friends are 18. That's a teeny bop thing...Middle school".
My eyes bugged, I had a direct line to the family room where I could see my son and he could see me, but I was hidden from his friends.
My head swung around and I looked at him in shock. I mouthed, 'REALLY?' and he quietly nodded his head.
This morning we had the following conversation. He had saved all his Christmas money and had a new exhaust system put on his car. He ordered it on-line and then had it installed yesterday.
Me: Ringo, really? Jane of the Murdering Campbells is REALLY in love with Justin Beiber?
Ringo: Mom, she's not the only one. They both are... (referring to the girl that was sitting next to her)
Me: Blows me away. I... had no idea.
Ringo: It's beyond that Mom. For Christmas... they bought tickets to his concert. They paid MORE for those tickets than I paid for my exhaust system. And guess what? My exhaust system will last the life of that car. Their tickets? Two hours. I don't get it...
Mars vs. Venus. Cars vs... Justin Beiber.
I'm siding with Mars.Posted by Boudicca at January 6, 2013 12:36 PM