The teen in our house is at that age where just about anything Dad and I do -- or don't do -- embarrasses him. I remember that age and I remembering thinking it, too. I just hoped it skipped a generation.
No such luck.
Today and the next two days I am working from the home office because, as usual, our schedule is dictated by the ungrateful one. Since Carter has baseball practice from 10 a.m. to noon each day during Spring Break, he needs transportation. If there's one thing we parents know how to do, it's provide transportation!
We worked out a deal where his teammate who lives down the road would get him transportation (with his parents) on Monday and Friday, and I will provide it for the two of them Tuesday through Thursday.
Now the one thing that is enjoyable about working at home is that you can roll out of bed, throw on some sweats, whip your hair into a pony tail and sip your coffee comfortably in front of the computer. Who cares what you look like, right?
Well, please note that teenagers care.
Fifteen minutes before we were to leave the house this morning, I checked with the boy to see if he had everything ready for practice. He said yes, then looked at me and said, "You ARE taking a shower, aren't you?"
Sure, honey. I'll just drop what I was doing for work and hop in the shower so I look presentable when we pick up your friend and drive to practice. I'm so glad that wet yet CLEAN hair, no makeup and sweats is what you were going for, because that is what you get in 10 minutes or less.
And did it really matter when both boys sat in the back seat anyway?
If he thinks that's embarrassing, he should check out this blog I heard about...
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