Friday, Apr. 15, 2005 - 5:23 P.M.

There are many things I am thankful for in my life. I�m thankful that I have a home and a car. I�m thankful for my job because it allows me to buy things like, my king size bed and massive 51� hi-def television, which I�m extra thankful for. I�m thankful for Cheetos. I�m thankful for peanut butter. I�m thankful for Diet Cherry Coke.

One of the things I�m most thankful for is the fact that my soon-to-be 16 year old son is a really, really good kid. He�s a child of a broken home, you know. So according to all the talking heads who examine heads, he could�ve gone either way. Blah.

He doesn�t do drugs or drink, even though I�m sure both are readily available to him. He hasn�t had sex�yet and I know that�s readily available because, (a) he�s super cute; (b) the girls these days practically carry a neon sign advertising free rental space in their woo-woos; and (c) he is not blind to said signs.

When I was 15 there were a myriad of things to get into. Pot and drugs were around, of course. (However, the drugs were of the �speed� variety, which, stupid as it sounds, we considered not very dangerous. Same with pot.) There was booze (been there) and sex (did it). Now, as hazardous as all that sounds? It wasn�t really that bad at all. For instance, when I was 15 and someone was pissed off at you they might lie in wait at your bus stop and pick a fight. Maybe. It really sort of depended on which Gilligan�s Island rerun was showing that day. Or, if it was raining. Or, if their bike had a flat. These days the pissed off kid will just shoot you.

Right now you�re asking yourself �Self, how does Purplecigar know her son is not doing these things?� I�ll tell you. First, my son and I have a great relationship. Second, I�m not one of these parents who tries to be supercool and a �friend� to their kid; one who tries to fit in with their kid�s friends. Third, I do not turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to goings-on in my house, even though at times, let�s face it, that�s the easier route. Fourth, believe me when I tell you I did some seriously crazy, screwed-up things as a teenager. Pulled all the stuff, told all the lies. Trust me, I know the behavior, the signs to look for. From the time he was born, I�ve been all up in his business and will continue to be until he moves out. At which point, I�ll just have to work a little harder. Pity his wife, people. I sure do.

Things happen with kids and there�s always that one parent who says, �Gee, I had no idea sweet little Bobby was making pipe bombs in his room, smoking crack out the bathroom window and plotting a coup of the school administration.� I, my friends, will never be this parent. And my son knows it. That�s why I can say with certainty he�s never done those things. Also? My GOD he is a horrible liar. I�d never tell him this but�he does this thing with his eyes? And, right then, I KNOW.

The bottom line is, if my son wanted to snort cocaine, shoot heroin, take ecstasy (sp? Is that how the drug is spelled?), have sex with a sweet honey and drive drunk all at the same time, he could (with considerable talent, of course). I am powerless to stop him from getting drugs or alcohol. I am powerless to stop him from having sex. What I�m not powerless at is parenting. I ROCK as a parent.

I really have no idea why I wrote this, much less posted it. I know there are some of you who don�t have and don�t ever want kids (which, by the way, I completely respect), so it�s probably pretty boring reading about my kids.

Today, I just started writing what was going to be (hopefully) a funny entry, and this is what came out.

There�s probably a reason for that.

You Give Me Fervor - Friday, Feb. 17, 2006
Revamped Sex Camp - Thursday, Jan. 26, 2006
I'm Not Dead - Tuesday, Jan. 10, 2006
Ebert And Roeper? Watch Your Backs. - Tuesday, Nov. 29, 2005
Coffee? Tea? Map? - Monday, Nov. 07, 2005

� Purplecigar

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