Mom plus Man Child Take on Kansas City

Yesterday I was lucky enough to get to spend the entire day with Man Child. Today I say "lucky"; tomorrow could be another story, but let's just celebrate when we can, shall we?

Man Child was on career day yesterday. He was supposed to shadow someone with an actual career, but the person we had all set up had to go out of town. So, Man Child followed his Mommy on a day of catering deliveries to Kansas City. It was a great opportunity for us to talk about things.

The day started with the usual confusion that is our life; one car in the shop because I guess you are not supposed to drive on a "donut" tire for 4 months- especially through large potholes that make up the streets of Lawrence, KS; then the inability for me to communicate with Chef Boy is Bad, due to the non-speaking status of our relationship; also I took an Excedrin PM at around 11:45 the night before in an attempt to get rid of a 3 day migraine, and I was still very groggy.

So, after dropping all off at their respective places Man Child and I head over to pick up the food at the catering ladies' shop. Then, we head off to KC with plans to lunch and hit a cool vintage store called Boomerang to shop for Man Child's outfit for the 9th grade formal. The 9th grade formal is a dance to which you don't really have to wear formal clothes, but it's in a hotel ballroom, so there is some level of mystique.

On the trip, we discussed said formal- what friends were going? Who had asked actual girls to go along? Did he secretly have a date he wasn't telling me about? Did he mind I secured a shift serving punch? (serving punch should be considered in air quotes, b/c of course I'm really going to spy!) Several friends were going. One had asked a girl, that he knew of. Pishaw!!!! "You're not coming to serve punch; you're going to spy on me!" I promised to be nice and to leave if I was style cramping. He actually fell for this.

Approaching the turn lane in the middle of the city, I saw there was a man with a cardboard sign. I started moaning. I moan b/c this sight makes me very sad and cynical about our world. I told Man Child I needed to give him money. Man Child thinks I'm crazy. I held $5 out the open window and asked if it would help. The man, a "homeless Vet trying to get home" told me he was saving for bus fare to South Dakota. Man Child told me how he is regularly approached in our downtown by people needing money. I told him it didn't matter what this man might use the money for- bus fare, a meal, a bottle of booze- we must help as we can to show those that are down that there is hope. He responded to goad me with, "They got themselves there." As fire flew out of my ears, he just laughed. He loves arguing that side of things with me. I just reminded him of his paper from second grade. It was one of those sentence starters with space for a drawing above it. The beginning of the sentence was "If I were President... " Man Child finished it with, "I would help the poor." His drawing was of primal stick figures, one larger than the other, handing down a wad of green. I've got this hanging in our family room to remind me of his true nature when I feel he might be possessed by demons.

After delivering the lunch, at which Man Child was a HUGE help, we set out to have pizza. YUM! Then, on to Boomerang. Boomerang is full of all things wonderful and vintage. I love it. Man Child purchased an actual sharkskin suit. I did not know sharkskin suits were not made of sharskin until yesterday. It is really, really cool. He also bought some bowling shoes to go with the suit and for everyday use. I try to play off the fact I am thrilled he is willing to wear funky, different clothes. Who am I kidding, I'm thrilled he's willing to wear CLEAN clothes!

We had a really great time. He conferred with me about what looked good- he tried on things I suggested... it was fabulous. We headed home feeling great about the day and great about each other.

I went to pick up the Princess at school. When I arrived home, there was Man Child, donning his shiny, dark green, sharkskin suit; bowling shoes on his size 13 feet; lounging in the hair dryer chair in the family room. With his stark red hair, he was quite a site. Then he started asking me what I thought he should wear under his suit. I nearly cried.

Sometimes, when they are SO big and capable of such obnoxious behavior, it is difficult to remember they are our babies and once so entirely dependent on us. Someone said the other day that god, or whomever is in charge, made teenagers so impossible to make it easier for parents to let go.

I figure this is probably right; but I don't think I'll ever be ready to let them go.
Right now, I've got that feeling when you hear a baby cry and whether it's yours or not, you can feel you have let down.

I've got to stop before I begin lactating all over the computer.