I Sent A Grown Man To His Room

My 18 year old, Nate, and I were up late one night printing for our family business, we're counterfeiters............just kidding, we own a weekly newsletter and print and distribute thousands of little brown papers all over the Chicago southland every week! Anyway, like I said, it was late and we started getting punchy. I'm not sure where this came from, but suddenly we found ourselves laughing and dreaming of a successful business thinking up humorous epitaphs.

It would be like the funny greeting cards aisle in the grocery store, except in a cemetery. I could see it. Making people laugh as they lost themselves wandering from headstone to headstone. Somehow, I don't think it would take off, but Nate came up with a good one for me. According to him, mine would read "Here Lies Tracy DeGraaf, mother of five boys, she finally got off her feet!"

Very appropo and very funny! Nate is an extremely tall young man at 6'3" with striking red hair, shining blue eyes and freckles galore! Nate will graduate from high school in December and then pursue his collegiate dreams.

I call him a genius wanna be. He's extremely bright and can get As and Bs without cracking a book. Hence the name "wanna be." He's a genius when he wants to be. His ACT score was almost higher than my husband and mine combined! That doesn't speak very well for the two of us, but as it turns out, we apparently have managed to contribute to the species of intelligent man with this one.

Nate says he either wants to be a brain surgeon or a comedian. Talk about a spectrum. To that he added, "I think I'll go with brain surgery, that would be easier." That is when I knew that he could be wildly successful at either!

Whomever thinks that brain surgery is easier than cracking a few jokes is the one I want performing my lobotomy! Likewise, the comedian who uses brain surgery and comedy in the same sentence is sure to have sold out shows.

With college looming, it surely feels like my husband and I are on the final lap of bringing our first son into manhood. Somehow, I have a feeling that last lap is going to be a doozie. So far, the teenage years have not been a walk in the park.

There have been no life threatening issues to our knowledge. No phone calls in the middle of the night requesting bail money or knocks at the door by uniformed officers, for which we are extremely thankful. But, there has been plenty of eye rolling, back talking, stupidity, ignorance and just plain dumb.

The other day, I sent my "almost grown up" son to his room for smacking his 7 year old brother. Granted, the seven year old likely deserved it, but I explained to Nate that dad and I don't go around smacking people all day long just because they deserve it. Could you imagine?

The first people I would smack are the teenagers at Burger King who totally screwed up my order making me wait 25 minutes for "fast" food. Not only did I have to tolerate their complete lack of human emotion in giving them my order, but then they accidentally deleted it and I had to re-order. When the re-order finally arrived, it was wrong; making them re-re-order; which totally ticked off the sandwich maker. I saw him slap my kid's burger down on the paper wrapper, squirt "ketchup only" on the grease-covered excuse for meat and throw it into the microwave to melt the cheese.

Then I would smack the wiry little man who works at the post office and assumes that I know everything there is to know about U.S. Postal regulations. He's so condescending. Like I am supposed to know that you can't write anything a half inch from the bottom of the postcard so that the scanner can read it. Show me 10 average Americans who know that postal fact and I will put my true weight on my driver's license.

And, if I could reach through the telephone cord and smack whomever is on the other end trying to get me to contribute to their Sacred Order of Retired Police Officers, or do a balance transfer with their incredibly low rate or purchase windows and siding for my 7 year old home, I would!

Now, where would I let the smacking begin? That's right. I would be in court........defending my indefensible behavior.


"So, Nate, we need to remember that we can't just go around smacking people now can we?" I reinforced to my "adult son." Then, with my left hand on my slightly extended hip and my right hand wagging my index finger upward toward his head which towers over my 5 and a half foot frame, I sent him to his room! Ha! I still have the power.

Ugh!!