#ThrowbackThursday The Inhumanity of being given the “wrong” car

Wow, my younger son really knew how to provide the old blog with content. Two years ago, he was butt hurt when his Dad changed the car plan. Fortunately, the younger son has a great sense of humor and now chuckles a little at his own behavior: The Day His Dad Gave Him The Wrong Car” 

 

I wanted to shake him…
Oh. My. God. Not really. Besides if I tried to shake Beav it would be like trying to shake a giant oak tree and I would end up with a hernia or something. Besides I wouldn’t shake him. That’s weird.

Everyone remembers Beav wrecked a car a couple of weeks ago, right? Fortunately, he has had transportation and is being very flexible about spending his days at my house when I’m off work and can take him to school. Beav calls me the other day. Number one this startled me because he was actually calling me back. He never calls back. So I knew he wanted something.

“Dad backed out on the car.” My son’s words were edged with tears.

I felt my blood pressure rise about 180 points because Ward has a history of backing out of promises with his sons. So I took about 18 deep cleansing breaths in a paper bag (not really, it was 4 and I didn’t use a paper bag) before I responded through gritted teeth:

“What do you mean? He’s not helping you with a car? Do I need to talk to your dad? Do you want me to say something and try to figure out what he means?”

“NO, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just he backed out on the car he was getting and I was going to use.”

“And?” (I’m still waiting for the angst inducing reason for this call)

“And I have to drive the Sebring!!! He was going to get something different–a 2001 Jeep Cherokee–and now I’m stuck with the convertible because he’s buying himself a new car”

Dear reader, I wish I could say I didn’t move the phone away from my head so I could laugh at my 18 year old son who is butt hurt his dad is letting him use a very sporty, convertible. Excuse me while I wipe away a tear and call Adult Protection Services. Clearly this young man is being exploited by his father.

“Beav, I’m not sure I understand what the big deal is. The Sebring is a nice car, good-looking and the gas milage is better.” While I successfully kept a poker face and managed to steady my voice in the realm of “Reasonable Mom” and “Zen Mom” versus “Sarcastic Mom” or “Incredulous Mom”. I was so Zen I think I should get an award. Anyhow, I probed a bit to try and discover what planet Beav was living on or what weird ass logic he was employing to arrive at the conclusion his life was ruined because his father was trusting him with a sports car. A convertible sports car no less. Oh the inhumanity of his life. Do you know how completely awesome my senior year would have been if I had a convertible sports car? It would have made Ferris Bueller’s Day Off look like a boring docu-drama is what.

“I can’t fit all my stuff in the that car!”

“Dude, what stuff? Your backpack? Wha’? Are you playing hockey now?” I know his golf clubs fit in the trunk because Ward’s fit in the trunk of our other Sebring back in the ’90’s.

“And just how many friends have you been stuffing into your car.” (uh oh out slipped The Rules Enforcer Mom because she always trumps the Zen Mom)”I realize you’re 18 but you’re not supposed to have more than two people in your car. It’s the rule.”

We talked a few more minutes, long enough for me to figure out he wasn’t acting out like a spoiled ten year old but rather like his mother’s son who was simply reacting because: THE SEBRING WASN’T THE PLAN. THE CHEROKEE WAS THE PLAN. DON’T CHANGE OUR PLAN. WE ARE THE ONLY CHANGERS OF PLANS. It’s a curse and a gift to be so closed-minded and inflexible. Ok, it’s a freakin’ curse and I’m sorry he got that from me along with all the freckles.

And because I’m all about the giving, I offered him the van on school days, making the supreme sacrifice of driving the convertible for him. Funny, he declined the MINI van. I’m not sure why. Somehow he did come around a little and realized it could be worse. (the van helped force that point) The Girl has offered to explain to him the Sebring is a complete chick magnet. In fact, I pictured him tooling into the school parking lot, top down, Rayban Wayfarer knock-offs in place. Whoa. Not helping. My next vision was me with a whip and a chair beating off the MILFs and the girls at his school. I should give him the van to keep him safe from all those predatory women.

 

About Laura

When my nest emptied I moved from the big city to a little big town to tend to a ramshackle yellow house on the edge of town. These are my Yellow House Days.
This entry was posted in Just me, life away from the yellow house, memories. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to #ThrowbackThursday The Inhumanity of being given the “wrong” car

  1. kathyradigan says:

    This is so funny!! I could just imagine what was going through your head and i give you so much credit for not screaming at him but rather realizing why he was so freaked out. I too am not great when the plan changes, I’ve gotten better, but my normal way is to stay the course and stick to the plan. Thanks for a laugh!! And I do think he should have driven the van and you get the convertible!

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  2. OMG! This is hilarious. I wish I had been punished and given a convertible at 18. Nope I got a baby blue duster and I loved it! I get the not changing the plans though my daughter and I both have that similar curse.

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    • Laura says:

      I’m not sure how to break through and be a little more flexible. I guess that’s the next big thing I work on. The last thing I needed at 18 was a convertible. . .

      Like

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