deeples

His momma raised him right.

April9

The Teen probably couldn’t tell you the date of my birthday.  Or my wedding anniversary.  Or even, probably, my middle name.  He doesn’t like to…. encumber himself with details, in this life.

He asks me how to spell everything he types because he can’t be bothered with Spellcheck.  He never reads the directions on microwave meals.  He sometimes can’t remember the order the months go in….  but that boy has MAD SKILLS, yo

You just have to know where to look.

Perkins, yesterday 12pm.

Me:  Ohmygod, I’m going to die if I don’t pee right now.

Teen:  Go! Go!

Me: No, I have to figure out what I want and then wait for them to take my order and then I can go. Going first messes the entire flow up!

Teen:  You want that chicken sandwich right? I can order it. Go!

Me: No, there are…. issues……  I have a substitution…  don’t want the pepper jack.  *hopping up and down*

Teen: MOM. I’ve got this.  GO TO THE BATHROOM.

Me:Ok, what kind of cheese do I want?

Teen:Provolone.

Me: If they don’t have it?

Teen: Swiss.

Me: What do I want to drink?

Teen: Iced tea. No lemon.

Me: Do I want the fries or the salad?

Teen: Both. Trick question.

Me: What dressing do I want?

Teen:Balsamic vinaigrette.

Me: If they don’t have it?

Teen:Bleu cheese.

Me: Ok.   *breaks into a big smile*  I’m going to the bathroom!

Me: (over my shoulder, as I waddle toward the bathroom)  Damn, you’re good.

Teen:  I’ve known that for years.  Years!!!

posted under Around Town, the teen

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