You're Bored? How 'Bout You Stuff a Few Gordita Supremes?
Recently, at Longhorn with the family, I pulled out my credit card to pay since hubs forgot his wallet.
“How are YOU gonna pay, Mom?” my kids heckled. “It’s dad’s money!”
“I have money too,” I said.
“Yeah, all the money you make from JOURNALISM??”
That’s funny coming from the unemployed. Although blood pooled in my eyeballs, I handled it well. With my iPhone, I simply Googled TacoBell.com/teen_job_applications/, and handed it to my daughters to fill out while we paid.
There are certain things my kids say that make me go postal, including their summer mantra, “I’M BORED!”
To avert their boredom, I’m being proactive and ordering my teenagers to devise a weekly summer schedule.
I imagine this is a schedule many high school kids would concoct:
First week of June: Complain about how mom is so lame for forcing me to call people and talk to them on the phone. When would I ever need to do that in real life?
Second week of June: Complain about how mom always comes in my room. Why can’t she leave me alone? I’ll let her know when I need money or new noise-canceling headphones to drown out the sound of the vacuum cleaner.
Third week of June: Research location to buy illegal fireworks/beer for fourth of July party. Hide illegal items by moving them every day to the houses of different friends who are allegedly not invited to the party I am allegedly not having.
Fourth week of June: Ask dad if I can take the boat out on Pickwick Lake with a group of friends the night of July 4th to watch fireworks.
First week of July: Take boyfriend on boat ALONE the night of July 4th to watch fireworks.
Second week of July: After Pickwick incident, research methods to bypass our home security system in order to sneak out of house after being grounded until the first day of school.
Third week of July: Go on stupid vacation with stupid family to a stupid condo without internet. Beg to fly back home alone two days early to start a vague summer project I forgot about for school. Host a totally legit party for 175 Twitter friends at my house before parents return.
Fourth week of July: Start two-a-day soccer practices. In between practices, clean garage and our 172-degree attic on account of the recent “parents were gone and police arrived” family meeting.
First week of August: Gripe about how parents should’ve made me work out this summer because of having to run sprints on a soccer field that has more gravity on it than last year.
Second week of August: Shop online with mom’s credit card at ShortSkirtsAndSheerShirts.com for new school clothes I can’t wear to school. Pay more for expedited shipping than the clothes cost because I wasted valuable shipping time researching “Clothes That Work It, Girl!” on Pinterest.
Third week of August: Start school. Take new clothes purchased on internet with mom’s credit card to Plato’s Closet for cash.
On second thought, I want to ensure that my kids are too busy to engage in devious summer activities. I’m heading to Taco Bell for a chalupa, so maybe I’ll have a few words with the manager.