I don't think I'm alone in this. I think everyone has been in situations like this. Where shit just happens. And then I just want to vent. Yell, scream, curse, pull my hair, basically have a grown up temper tantrum. And what I do NOT need in this situation is someone to point out to me the error of my ways, or how I "should" have done things so as to avoid the situation I am currently in. Because contrary to popular opinion, I am not stupid, naive, or ignorant of my mistakes. I am very well aware of the concept of action-consequence, and for the most part am self-aware enough to know the possibilities of negative consequences for any of my given actions. But just because I know they are possible doesn't mean I am happy when they happen. It still pisses me off when things don't go how I would like or when "shit happens" to ruin or impede upon my otherwise pleasant plans. And sometimes, I just want to say "THIS PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF!!!". And advice is not requested by this statement, nor is it needed.
I have been involved in several groups in the past whose focus and intent was supposed to be offering support to like-minded people, folks whose life situations or circumstances are similar, or those who are all going through the same types of life difficulties. And there are hundreds of different "groups" out there all claiming to offer the same things to their target population. Some of these groups might meet in person, others might be online. Some might be serious, others might be more social. I have encountered what I find to be a very fascinating phenomenon regarding these "support groups". Even the social ones, the ones designed to be fun or light-hearted, can take a turn for the nasty. Very easily. And very quickly. What I find so interesting is how easy it is for people to "hide" behind their keyboards and pass judgement or critique others, when they would never dream of saying such things to a person's face should the exchange happen in person.
We all like to believe we are supportive people, helpful people, non-judgemental people. And for the most part, we very well may be. But give a person a keyboard and a feeling of anonymity and watch Her Majesty Holier Than Thou rear her ugly head. Things that no one in their right mind would ever dream of saying to a person's face get thrown around like candy at a fucking Fourth of July parade. Judgement, condescension, and self-righteousness get passed off as support.
I've seen this in a few of the groups I've joined on Facebook in particular, where anonymity and social networking meet to create their own little version of hell for those of us foolish enough to believe the premise that people in similar circumstances or situations are capable of supporting each other without using the experiences of others to make themselves feel superior. I've watched a single mom's post venting the frustrations of trying to get an overactive special needs toddler to bed in less than 3 hours, get turned into a critique of this woman's life choices, what "causes" the special needs and what this mother should be doing differently to correct it, her obvious lack of parenting skills and discipline to have a child not listen or follow directions, and her laziness for this one night expressing a frustration and desire not to fight the fight. Its so sad to me that the only way some people can feel good about their own decisions (parenting or otherwise) is to critique and judge the decisions and circumstances of others. Another time a person asks advice on traveling cross country with a pet, only to have responders set upon each other over decisions regarding pet vs. no pet in motels with pet vs. no pet policies.
And here is where I state my disclaimer...I am not naive enough to truly be personally disappointed that strangers on Facebook or any other social media site are being judgmental or mean or catty or bitchy or rude or condescending or just plain overall pissy to each other. Nor do I seek out complete strangers anonymously for my true support needs. I'm not sure if anyone knows this about me but I rarely give a flying rat's ass what other people think of me, although I do try to avoid openly or callously giving offense. But I still find it sad when I see people attack others especially under the guise of "support". Especially when I don't believe for one minute that the attacks would happen without the benefit of hiding behind a computer keyboard.
Put a group of people in a room with the task of discussing a book they have all read. Some like the book, some don't. Some get a deeper message, others couldn't get past the first chapter. Some see symbolism everywhere, some see only the words on the page. Not one time have I ever seen things deteriorate into insults, barbs, critiques, or personal attacks because of these differences. I have been in a room with mommy's of toddlers, all going through the typical difficulties associated with mommying a toddler. Some breast fed, some bottle fed. Some made their own baby food, some bought their babyfood in bulk at Costco. Some were proponents of co-sleeping and attachment parenting, some believed in the old "let them cry it out" method. Not once did anyone need to pass judgement on the parenting decisions of others to justify their own. There was a lot of "this is what works for us" on all sides, and that was enough. But take these same groups and put them behind closed doors on a computer, with no one knowing who you are or where you are, and its amazing how quickly things can deteriorate.
I get that the internet isn't true support. I get that strangers are just that, strangers, and that to have any expectation or faith in them is to set yourself up for disappointment. But I am also getting a pretty clear idea of where "mean kids" come from. They come from mean adults. Adults who feel the need to criticize and judge what they don't fully understand, and who thus are raising children to do the same. If a person is different, believes differently, parents differently, dresses differently, thinks differently, worships differently, then it is my right to condemn, judge, ridicule or scorn. What the fuck happened to just being fucking NICE to each other??? Where is it written that a person needs to be just like me in order for me to be nice to them??? And where is it written that being nice to someone automatically means you condone and agree with every single fucking thing they have ever done or said??? Especially when that person is a complete fucking stranger on the internet???
Again, I am not naive. Just wishing there was more reason to be optimistic about humanity. Cuz not nice adults create not nice kids. And those kids become not nice adults, perpetuating a very sad cycle. I know it doesn't help to engage these people so I do try my best to avoid it. However, sometimes meanness needs to be called out as just that. Meanness. For my part, I will continue to try and teach my children the importance of just being fucking nice to people. Even if you don't fucking feel like it. Even if you feel like they don't deserve it. Because sometimes mean people really just need a hug. And there is nothing more rewarding than telling some high and mighty judgmental holier-than-thou condescending ass hat that you feel bad that they are so unhappy or insecure in their own life that they feel compelled to pass judgment on others to feel better about themselves, and then to offer them a big virtual hug. Because this usually just pisses them off. Which I guess is a win-win for me.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Friday, May 10, 2013
Fly Paper for Freaks....
That is going to be the name of my autobiography. Fly Paper for Freaks. Because sometimes that is exactly what I feel like. The freaks are the flys. And I am their fly paper. It seems like they find me. Where ever I go. Its inescapable. I know that the more you move, the more likely you are going to experience an increase in whacko experiences. Its simple math, in the probability and percentages. The more you move around and relocate, the more people you are exposed to over time, and thus the more likely you are to cross paths with people who put the f*@# in WTF?!?!?!?! We've lived in 9 different houses in 9 different places in 7 different states in the last 13 years. That is a shit load of opportunities to experience new and different levels of crazy.
Our first home was in TN and was on a quiet little cul-de-sac. It was a wonderful home and I remember it fondly. We were only there for a year so we didn't really get to know too many of our immediate neighbors very well. There was one, however, that stands out. Cop cars in front of the house in the middle of the night 4 times within 6 months has made her hard to forget. I don't think I ever knew her name, but I do remember getting trapped on my own front porch with her (after my mother and husband escaped inside and NEVER came out to rescue me!) as she shared with me every detail of the drama in her world. About why she had to have her fiancé taken away in handcuffs because he was so mad at her for bringing her boyfriend to the house (HIS house, the fiancé's house) when he was away for work, and how it wasn't good for the 2 young children to see him so upset, because they really like the boyfriend.
Then there was the guy in FL who lived next door with his elderly mom. The unemployed 40+ year old who made his mom pay to have the grass cut because "I did that growing up. I'm not doing that anymore." Nice. This is a guy who smoked so much pot, he didn't think he could pass a drug test for a construction job, so he asked - YES, came right out and ASKED - my husband if he could "borrow" some of his pee. My husband, who was working drug interdiction at the time. Irony, anyone? That the guy does soooooo many drugs, he asks my husband who is working drug interdiction for his pee. Say, WHA......???? This is the same guy who was murdered in the driveway 3 months after we moved away. Local speculation is it was either a drug deal gone bad or a really effed up "love triangle". Huh??? And I thought dealing with poisonous snakes was the worst thing I would have to deal with in Florida...
But up until this point, it seemed like the freaks we encountered were relatively harmless freaks. Like if you kept your wits about you, you could sit back and be entertained by their shenanigans and freakishness and drama. Shit got real in Michigan. This was when my husband pissed off a neighbor, inadvertently, by joking with him that when our air conditioner wasn't working the day we moved in, we might have to crash on his floor with sleeping bags, ha ha ha. Well, apparently he took that seriously and decided he didn't like my husband. So much so that after one particularly egregious offense, he decided to wait in his garage with a baseball bat for my husband to come home from work. That's us, making friends everywhere we go. Needless to say, I've forbidden my husband from making jokes with people when we first meet them. At least until we find out what sorts of weapons they keep in their house.
Alabama was one giant clusterfuck of freakish experiences that literally had my head ready to explode. From the open prayer "In the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ" in a public school at school functions, to the passing out of Bibles outside the cafeteria at lunch time, to the people who told me not to ask too many questions about religion or race because I could end up with a cross burning in my yard, to the people down the street who informed my children on Halloween that they were going to hell for trick or treating. I don't even have to go into the weird next door neighbor who came into my house one morning, sat down on my couch, and wouldn't leave for 2 freaking hours. I could keep going, but I think I've made my point about our experiences in the state of Alabama.
Which brings me to our current situation. We love where we live and for the most part couldn't be happier with our choice to live where we live. But true to form, we selected the ONE house in the neighborhood that is surrounded - literally, surrounded - on all sides by some level of whackishness. Harmless crazy lives across the street in the form of the guy who mows his grass in penny loafers, sweats, a collared polo shirt, and a sweater vest. A bit whacky, but at least he's entertaining to watch. Then next door, we have the family with an 8 foot ball python. That they bring outside in the summer to let it "exercise" in the tree right next to the fence between our yards. I looked it up, and its not illegal until the snake is 10 feet long. Cuz its that extra 2 feet that make it dangerous. Holy mother freaking shit balls you have to be mother effing kidding me!!! This news brought me to tears. As someone with a honest to God snake phobia (not just oh get it away from me I don't like it snake phobia, but complete melt down hysterical hyperventilating when I see one can't go through the reptile house at the zoo level of snake phobia) knowing that this thing is living next door and that summer is rapidly approaching has my nerves on "permanently fried" status. But other than the pet that could potentially kill and eat my children, they have been very nice to us. They understand my.....issues, and have promised to be aware of that and take it into consideration before bringing their pet outside in the summer. I can ask for no more than that.
And then there is drama central on the other side. Where to begin....well, there is a woman, her 5 children, the boyfriend (now step dad), and the dog. Woman is a midwife (but uncertified), has health issues and has been on and off "pain management", smokes like a chimney (which she says she has to do because of her pain), and is now pregnant with #6. Yup. A pregnant midwife who smokes. Yet somehow she is on a potato only diet due to her health issues and pain management needs. Don't ask, because I don't know. Man has worked as everything from a masseur, to a race car driver, to a contractor. I don't know what he does now, other than drive Woman to her appointments and births, because he doesn't work anywhere. There are the kids, who just stare at you Addams Family style when you speak to them. Its truly creepy. Truly. The Coup D'Etat of Crazy was learning about the "spiritual cleansing" that was performed there recently because there was supposedly a "demon" attached to one of the older kids after he returned from the bio-Dad's house. Folks, we have officially attained a new level of WTF?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Now don't get me wrong. I have met so many of my dearest friends along the way in my travels, and many in the very places where I encountered all the heavy duty "Crazy". My AL friends, without them, I wouldn't have survived that year. Seriously. I wouldn't be here now. And I love my friendships with my neighbors in MI and am still close with Bat-Man's ex wife. And Florida is where I made some of my best friends, friends that will never leave my heart or my Christmas card list. And I foresee the possibility of making connections here with people I have met. So I truly hope I haven't offended any of my friends who think I am referring to you when I talk about the freaks I have encountered over the years. Most of you are exactly my kind of crazy. I'm talking about the over-the-top whacked out things that fall in under the header "You just can't make this shit up". And I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. I guess I should be used to it by now, being fly paper for freaks. Between the child eating snakes and the exorcisms, I suppose I'll feel right at home.
Our first home was in TN and was on a quiet little cul-de-sac. It was a wonderful home and I remember it fondly. We were only there for a year so we didn't really get to know too many of our immediate neighbors very well. There was one, however, that stands out. Cop cars in front of the house in the middle of the night 4 times within 6 months has made her hard to forget. I don't think I ever knew her name, but I do remember getting trapped on my own front porch with her (after my mother and husband escaped inside and NEVER came out to rescue me!) as she shared with me every detail of the drama in her world. About why she had to have her fiancé taken away in handcuffs because he was so mad at her for bringing her boyfriend to the house (HIS house, the fiancé's house) when he was away for work, and how it wasn't good for the 2 young children to see him so upset, because they really like the boyfriend.
Then there was the guy in FL who lived next door with his elderly mom. The unemployed 40+ year old who made his mom pay to have the grass cut because "I did that growing up. I'm not doing that anymore." Nice. This is a guy who smoked so much pot, he didn't think he could pass a drug test for a construction job, so he asked - YES, came right out and ASKED - my husband if he could "borrow" some of his pee. My husband, who was working drug interdiction at the time. Irony, anyone? That the guy does soooooo many drugs, he asks my husband who is working drug interdiction for his pee. Say, WHA......???? This is the same guy who was murdered in the driveway 3 months after we moved away. Local speculation is it was either a drug deal gone bad or a really effed up "love triangle". Huh??? And I thought dealing with poisonous snakes was the worst thing I would have to deal with in Florida...
But up until this point, it seemed like the freaks we encountered were relatively harmless freaks. Like if you kept your wits about you, you could sit back and be entertained by their shenanigans and freakishness and drama. Shit got real in Michigan. This was when my husband pissed off a neighbor, inadvertently, by joking with him that when our air conditioner wasn't working the day we moved in, we might have to crash on his floor with sleeping bags, ha ha ha. Well, apparently he took that seriously and decided he didn't like my husband. So much so that after one particularly egregious offense, he decided to wait in his garage with a baseball bat for my husband to come home from work. That's us, making friends everywhere we go. Needless to say, I've forbidden my husband from making jokes with people when we first meet them. At least until we find out what sorts of weapons they keep in their house.
Alabama was one giant clusterfuck of freakish experiences that literally had my head ready to explode. From the open prayer "In the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ" in a public school at school functions, to the passing out of Bibles outside the cafeteria at lunch time, to the people who told me not to ask too many questions about religion or race because I could end up with a cross burning in my yard, to the people down the street who informed my children on Halloween that they were going to hell for trick or treating. I don't even have to go into the weird next door neighbor who came into my house one morning, sat down on my couch, and wouldn't leave for 2 freaking hours. I could keep going, but I think I've made my point about our experiences in the state of Alabama.
Which brings me to our current situation. We love where we live and for the most part couldn't be happier with our choice to live where we live. But true to form, we selected the ONE house in the neighborhood that is surrounded - literally, surrounded - on all sides by some level of whackishness. Harmless crazy lives across the street in the form of the guy who mows his grass in penny loafers, sweats, a collared polo shirt, and a sweater vest. A bit whacky, but at least he's entertaining to watch. Then next door, we have the family with an 8 foot ball python. That they bring outside in the summer to let it "exercise" in the tree right next to the fence between our yards. I looked it up, and its not illegal until the snake is 10 feet long. Cuz its that extra 2 feet that make it dangerous. Holy mother freaking shit balls you have to be mother effing kidding me!!! This news brought me to tears. As someone with a honest to God snake phobia (not just oh get it away from me I don't like it snake phobia, but complete melt down hysterical hyperventilating when I see one can't go through the reptile house at the zoo level of snake phobia) knowing that this thing is living next door and that summer is rapidly approaching has my nerves on "permanently fried" status. But other than the pet that could potentially kill and eat my children, they have been very nice to us. They understand my.....issues, and have promised to be aware of that and take it into consideration before bringing their pet outside in the summer. I can ask for no more than that.
And then there is drama central on the other side. Where to begin....well, there is a woman, her 5 children, the boyfriend (now step dad), and the dog. Woman is a midwife (but uncertified), has health issues and has been on and off "pain management", smokes like a chimney (which she says she has to do because of her pain), and is now pregnant with #6. Yup. A pregnant midwife who smokes. Yet somehow she is on a potato only diet due to her health issues and pain management needs. Don't ask, because I don't know. Man has worked as everything from a masseur, to a race car driver, to a contractor. I don't know what he does now, other than drive Woman to her appointments and births, because he doesn't work anywhere. There are the kids, who just stare at you Addams Family style when you speak to them. Its truly creepy. Truly. The Coup D'Etat of Crazy was learning about the "spiritual cleansing" that was performed there recently because there was supposedly a "demon" attached to one of the older kids after he returned from the bio-Dad's house. Folks, we have officially attained a new level of WTF?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
Now don't get me wrong. I have met so many of my dearest friends along the way in my travels, and many in the very places where I encountered all the heavy duty "Crazy". My AL friends, without them, I wouldn't have survived that year. Seriously. I wouldn't be here now. And I love my friendships with my neighbors in MI and am still close with Bat-Man's ex wife. And Florida is where I made some of my best friends, friends that will never leave my heart or my Christmas card list. And I foresee the possibility of making connections here with people I have met. So I truly hope I haven't offended any of my friends who think I am referring to you when I talk about the freaks I have encountered over the years. Most of you are exactly my kind of crazy. I'm talking about the over-the-top whacked out things that fall in under the header "You just can't make this shit up". And I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. I guess I should be used to it by now, being fly paper for freaks. Between the child eating snakes and the exorcisms, I suppose I'll feel right at home.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
And So It Begins..........
It happens to every parent. That moment when you are dropped. Instantly. You tuck your precious child in at night with a hug, a kiss, and an "I love you". And literally overnight, that same child doesn't want to be seen with you, speak with you in public, or acknowledge your existence in front of friends. God forbid you should actually speak his name out loud in front of his friends, thus shattering the fragile facade he has worked so hard to create that he doesn't even really know who you are.
I was hit smack in the forehead with this reality when Big Dude asked if he could go to the movies with some friends, including some girls, alone. Sure. As long as all the other parents understand it will be a co-ed outing and we are all on board with the agreed upon movie, I don't have a problem with stepping up the social freedoms a notch or two. But you know what sounds even better? Me and the other family members attending a different movie at the theater during that time. Seems to me that there's no reason the rest of us shouldn't enjoy a movie as well. It also saves me gas, not having to drive home after dropping you off only to turn around and pick you up in a few hours. Sounds logical, right? Holy shit, you would have thought I suggested drawing and quartering him ala Braveheart style. The sounds of pain emitting from him at the mere thought of having to endure such a horrific experience would have put Mel Gibson to shame. I tried to reassure him that I wouldn't set foot in his movie, wouldn't attempt to even lay eyes on him and his friends, and would behave like a perfect stranger should the unthinkable happen and we actually cross paths. All to no avail. He was ready to call the whole thing off and just not go. I can only imagine the look of "You can not be serious about this. Are you effin' kidding me with this shit?!" on my face at this point. I mean its a huge ass theater!! There are a shit-ton of different options there, and unless he is Justin Beiber or a Kardashian, I'm not sure he has any business trying to regulate who can and can't go there while he is in the building. Given the fact that he was scrambling to come up with the money to cover the movie and snacks for himself and his female friend, I think its safe to say that the Beibs he is NOT.
It was the first time I was faced with this new status quo. And I know its just the beginning. All in all, I'm okay with it I think. Overall we still have a pretty awesome relationship. He shares with me, voluntarily I might add, things that are going on with him at school with friends and girls and stuff. He always checks in with me when he is out with friends in the neighborhood, telling me where he's going to be or when he'll be home. And his friends all seem to respect the fact that this is the expectation, and don't give him a hard time about it. I've even had them check in with me when they are with him. Not too shabby.
He's been away this week on a vacation with my mom. He's farther away than a car ride for the first time and for longer than a few nights with a family member. And he has called me every night so far. To check in. And to chat. And to tell me about all the cool stuff. Like how when he's really quiet in the pool, he can hear the sounds of more different kinds of birds than he ever knew existed. And that the color of the red flowering bush next to the house is a brighter red than he could have ever imagined. And how amazingly beautiful a starfish is in the ocean, as opposed to in an aquarium. In fact, he just now, as I am typing this blog, called in the middle of the day to ask me what size his little sister is because he is at a gift shop and found a "really really cute little sundress" that he wants to get her. The kid has an amazing heart and I love love LOVE that he still wants to share his heart with his family. I know not to take it for granted because if this mentality isn't nurtured and cultivated carefully, it can disappear faster than Lindsey Lohan's underwear at a Los Angeles night club.
I'm trying to prepare myself for the years to come, when its not just Big Dude asking me to step back, but also Little Dude and Little Diva as well. And I've decided to handle it in the mature and adult manner that would be expected of me. I'm going to do my damnedest to be every inch of the embarrassing mother that I am being punished for not being yet. Lets call it a lesson on "Self-Fulfilling Prophecy". I will do my very best to fulfill your expectations of me. If you expect me to be polite and respectful of your privacy and personal preferences, I will happily meet that expectation. However, if you expect me to be an embarrassment and humiliate you, I got that covered too. Just like I expect you to do well in school, be a good citizen, help those in need, and grow into a fine upstanding young man. Which you are doing an amazing job of doing, I might add. Instead of expecting you to be loser punk who's going to end up living in my basement forever. Cuz if I expected that of you, you'd probably meet that expectation. See how that works? So I'll give you another chance to rethink how you might want to handle future situations where you might have no other choice but to be seen with me in public. This is called empowerment. I'm empowering you to determine your own destiny in this matter. Cuz I care about your destiny. But if you want, I have lots of other ideas too. Lots. And I am very creative. This could be fun. Muaaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!!
I was hit smack in the forehead with this reality when Big Dude asked if he could go to the movies with some friends, including some girls, alone. Sure. As long as all the other parents understand it will be a co-ed outing and we are all on board with the agreed upon movie, I don't have a problem with stepping up the social freedoms a notch or two. But you know what sounds even better? Me and the other family members attending a different movie at the theater during that time. Seems to me that there's no reason the rest of us shouldn't enjoy a movie as well. It also saves me gas, not having to drive home after dropping you off only to turn around and pick you up in a few hours. Sounds logical, right? Holy shit, you would have thought I suggested drawing and quartering him ala Braveheart style. The sounds of pain emitting from him at the mere thought of having to endure such a horrific experience would have put Mel Gibson to shame. I tried to reassure him that I wouldn't set foot in his movie, wouldn't attempt to even lay eyes on him and his friends, and would behave like a perfect stranger should the unthinkable happen and we actually cross paths. All to no avail. He was ready to call the whole thing off and just not go. I can only imagine the look of "You can not be serious about this. Are you effin' kidding me with this shit?!" on my face at this point. I mean its a huge ass theater!! There are a shit-ton of different options there, and unless he is Justin Beiber or a Kardashian, I'm not sure he has any business trying to regulate who can and can't go there while he is in the building. Given the fact that he was scrambling to come up with the money to cover the movie and snacks for himself and his female friend, I think its safe to say that the Beibs he is NOT.
It was the first time I was faced with this new status quo. And I know its just the beginning. All in all, I'm okay with it I think. Overall we still have a pretty awesome relationship. He shares with me, voluntarily I might add, things that are going on with him at school with friends and girls and stuff. He always checks in with me when he is out with friends in the neighborhood, telling me where he's going to be or when he'll be home. And his friends all seem to respect the fact that this is the expectation, and don't give him a hard time about it. I've even had them check in with me when they are with him. Not too shabby.
He's been away this week on a vacation with my mom. He's farther away than a car ride for the first time and for longer than a few nights with a family member. And he has called me every night so far. To check in. And to chat. And to tell me about all the cool stuff. Like how when he's really quiet in the pool, he can hear the sounds of more different kinds of birds than he ever knew existed. And that the color of the red flowering bush next to the house is a brighter red than he could have ever imagined. And how amazingly beautiful a starfish is in the ocean, as opposed to in an aquarium. In fact, he just now, as I am typing this blog, called in the middle of the day to ask me what size his little sister is because he is at a gift shop and found a "really really cute little sundress" that he wants to get her. The kid has an amazing heart and I love love LOVE that he still wants to share his heart with his family. I know not to take it for granted because if this mentality isn't nurtured and cultivated carefully, it can disappear faster than Lindsey Lohan's underwear at a Los Angeles night club.
I'm trying to prepare myself for the years to come, when its not just Big Dude asking me to step back, but also Little Dude and Little Diva as well. And I've decided to handle it in the mature and adult manner that would be expected of me. I'm going to do my damnedest to be every inch of the embarrassing mother that I am being punished for not being yet. Lets call it a lesson on "Self-Fulfilling Prophecy". I will do my very best to fulfill your expectations of me. If you expect me to be polite and respectful of your privacy and personal preferences, I will happily meet that expectation. However, if you expect me to be an embarrassment and humiliate you, I got that covered too. Just like I expect you to do well in school, be a good citizen, help those in need, and grow into a fine upstanding young man. Which you are doing an amazing job of doing, I might add. Instead of expecting you to be loser punk who's going to end up living in my basement forever. Cuz if I expected that of you, you'd probably meet that expectation. See how that works? So I'll give you another chance to rethink how you might want to handle future situations where you might have no other choice but to be seen with me in public. This is called empowerment. I'm empowering you to determine your own destiny in this matter. Cuz I care about your destiny. But if you want, I have lots of other ideas too. Lots. And I am very creative. This could be fun. Muaaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!!
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