Teen Angst

bird-poop-on-car

Over the years I have searched for the perfect way to embarrass our teenagers and come out smelling like a rose. I have dressed crazy. Yelled loudly at ball games. Requested to see driver’s license, insurance, and car registration from boys coming to take my daughters out on a date. I have told them “no” right in front of their friends. Withheld permission to dubious activities when simply EVERYONE, everyone, else was going. Made them drive old clunkers instead of brand new $60,000 pickup trucks with dual wheels.

I was the lead in the Christmas play and got to sing in front of an audience. My daughter told me to tone it down! I have tried, over the years, to work at the concession stands and meet all of their friends’ parents. UuugggGH… I have been to open houses and been friendly to all of their teachers even with them trying to drag me past the doorway. I have been kicked out of several tennis matches for yelling for my own kid! Who knew that tennis matches were supposed to be quiet affairs???

But, now, quite by accident, I have discovered a way to get them out of the car and into the school pronto quick. As a matter of fact, I nearly ran over the youngest daughter this morning because she got the door open and hopped out faster than I could bring the car to a stop. She was on the sidewalk and walking away from me long before I could yell out that I loved her.

It snowed overnight so we had a two hour delay this morning. It was 17 degrees outside so I decided to take our small jeep because it has four wheel drive. Unfortunately, the rafters over the jeep are just the perfect place for our guineas to roost during the cold. When I slid the jeep from its place in the carport, I could see some large poop splotches on the windshield. Luckily they were on the passenger side so I did not have to get out and scrape them off.

“Ewwww… mom! That is gross,” she shrieked as she got in the car. As she looked out the windshield, down the hood, she saw more glops of poop. She opened her mouth to protest.

I put the car in gear and we took off. Two clumps, at the end of the hood, blew off. I thought more would come off but we had to drive kind of slow because of the road conditions. If we just could have gone a little faster, some more would have blown off but the two largest plops were frozen solid to the middle of the windshield right beside the sliding mud prints where the cats slid off the roof.

So, on to school we went. The youngest did not notice and hopped out at his school. I could not run the wipers because I was afraid that they would snap off when they got caught on the edge of the frozen poop circles. I drove along and she slid down into her seat. I did notice that the other cars had clear windshields. Luckily I could see around the poop, but the road spray from the other cars was making my windshield a mess. I needed to run the wipers but couldn’t, so I slowed down and squinted.

Finally, we arrived at the school and I graciously pulled into the secondary lot for her. She grabbed her stuff, opened the door and was out as quick as a rabbit. I looked up to speak to her and she was already on the sidewalk opening the door into the school.

I was thinking about pouring some of my water bottle on the poo spots and giving it a quick scrape, but I could see some of her friends close by so I just moved on. No need to aggravate the situation.

Besides, I could always use the jeep to pick her up in the afternoon!

About Fawn Musick

Writings to make you Smile and Think. Fawn is an award winning newspaper columnist. She is an avid writer, blogger, and mom. Her advice comes from her years of mothering her eight children.
This entry was posted in Posts, Stories / Articles and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Teen Angst

  1. Judy says:

    You are too much but I love it. I also understand it. What could that say about me?

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s