Conversations With A 15-Year-Old

Sometimes these guys just slay me with their one-liners... and I never see it coming. Case in point:

This morning I drove Andrew to his UIL (University Interscholastic League) district competition. Andrew is on the High School Spelling team. He can't really spell... but that's neither here nor there. He's on the team and he's proud to do his part, ok? Incidentally, when I say, "he can't spell", I'm not talking about normal English words. He's proficient in that department. I mean the bogus words they make these kids memorize. Words like...anhydrous, deuteragonist, and gypsiferous. (amusing note: spell check doesn't even know how to spell that last one. HAHAHA) 

Anyway, as we were driving to the UIL meet, we had a lively conversation about crime and whether Andrew is cut out for that life. The abridged version goes something like this:

ANDERW:  I'm pretty sure every Mattress Firm is just a fake company. It's a money laundering scheme, for sure. 

ME: Why do you say that?

ANDREW:  There are eight Mattress Firm stores really close to us and they are always empty. How can that be a legit business? (He takes a minute to calculate possible annual income if they sell three mattresses every day. Concludes that no genuine business could operate on that.)

ME: So, you're saying you don't want to own a Mattress Firm franchise? 

ANDREW: Nooooo! I want no part of that kind of crime. 

ME: What kind of crime would you prefer?

(Andrew goes on to list several ideas for crimes he might contemplate pulling off.  Things like sneaking into the federal mint and printing money. "Real money mom... not counterfeit. I could just print whatever I want". Other possible crime ideas involved replacing the gold at Fort Knox with brass bars, because nobody would notice that at all. Or… “we could rob that Brinks truck right there".  I pointed out all the ways his plans were (a) not smart and (b) would absolutely land him in prison.

ME: Okay so when you're in prison, I'm not baking you a cake with a file in it.

ANDREW: How about a blow torch?

ME: (blank stare)

ANDREW:  You should bake a cake with a file in it....

ME: (cutting him off) That would be a felony....

ANDREW: (continuing his thought before he was rudely interrupted) …and when they scan the cake, they will find it contains a blank flash drive... without a file. (rim shot)

And that's when my coffee hit the windshield.

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to interpret this kid's thought process. Is he punking me with really awful criminal ideas to sweat me out? Or does he have a not-so-genius criminal mind? Either way, extra prayers for this one won't hurt.

*** Note to FBI agent: Relax. It's a joke.
       (And also... it makes me sad that I need to spell that out these days.)

The Christmas List

 "When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for an individual to create a list of wishes and needs regarding Christmas..."

And this is how Daniel's thirteen page Christmas List Proposal begins. With an abstract page paraphrasing the Declaration of Independence, which is referenced on page 11.  

Let's just take a stroll through this masterpiece mmkay? 

The Title Page

This is what happens when a highly intelligent sixteen-year-old is enrolled in dual credit high school/college courses. He learns about the required APA format for college papers. I highly recommend visiting the web page listed on his title page, here, and then click the play button next to "Submit a Modification Request". 

(Doh... he got me!)

The Abstract Page

Because the greatest papers paraphrase Thomas Jefferson. I mean... you just can't go wrong with a Jefferson reference.

Pages 3-10

Here's where we get to the meat of the paper. This remarkably inventive narrative describes Daniel's reasoning for the items on his wish list. Notice how he leaves little "Easter eggs" for me to find. Also noteworthy are the random quotes which are peppered throughout . Because it's not truly a complete paper unless you cite quotes from experts.

World Domination? This child has lofty goals. 

But he does, apparently, care about the people's will. So that's good.

I love you too, my dear, but what Detroit and antidisestablishmentarianism have to do with your Christmas list is beyond me.  Nice quote from the expert.

I mean... who doesn't want a Silo-Based Intercontinental Ballistic Missile?

(Aaaannnnd...the House of Crazy blog was just flagged by the FBI for investigation. Hey Feds... no need to raid the crazy house or anything. Just a joke mmmkay?)

Does a guy who has a Silo-Based Intercontinental Ballistic Missile really need a rocket launcher too? I suppose if world domination is the goal, he probably does.

References

Got my handy dandy red pen out to make a little correction. He's going to hate that I found an error. 😂

I love how he lists "America" as the publisher here. Also noteworthy is the fictional "Not Communist Journal", which published Daniel's article, "Why You Should Give Me Free Stuff".  I wonder if that's a  3000 word article with 57 actual words. Things to ponder. 

The List

On page twelve we finally get to the actual list of things that I asked him to submit five weeks ago. Now I know why it took him this long to get his list to me. See... when I asked for his Christmas list, I was thinking he'd get a pen and a post-it note and jot down a few ideas. You know... like his brothers did. So, twelve pages later we learn that Daniel doesn't really want a rocket launcher and world domination. What he really wants is listed in a tidy table under the categories "I NEED ITTTT", "I Really Want It", and "I Want It".  I love how "Get a stock account set up" is an actual item on his actual Christmas List. So like... are we expecting Santa to set up an AmeriTrade account and purchase a few Google stocks, or what?

And there you have it... Daniel's Christmas List. I am tempted to run it through plagiarism software to see if his work is original. But since I'm pretty sure there is no other kid on earth who would prepare a thirteen page APA formatted term paper as a Christmas list, I'm just going to assume there is no plagiarism going on here. 

This kid!!!! 💗

p.s. I finished Christmas shopping for Daniel last week!  Fortunately, my astute intuition kicked in and I actually got some of the things he listed.  AmeriTrade account TBD.

Breaking News! Cheeto Guy Has Another Genius Idea

 

(*If you haven't read the recent "Cheeto Guy" post, click here to catch up.  You won't be sorry, I promise.)

So, here's an update to the Cheeto Guy post. Andrew has informed me that he wants to get this orange suit for his senior prom in two years. Kohls.com carries this suit in every color you can imagine. Incidentally, they also carry suits with the American flag, the Canadian Flag, and in a fabric featuring lovely pink flamingos. Just FYI. You can see all the fantastic suit designs here. (Note: this post is not sponsored by Kohl's, however, perhaps I should take a page from Cheeto Guy's play book and ask them. Look, a corporate sponsorship does not come to people who do not ask. Truth!) 

Back to Andrew's prom attire. This kiddo is cooking up big plans and his vision is far more grand than a mere $59.00 orange suit. You see, Andrew plans to have the Cheeto logo printed on the back. Classy, right?

So this revelation from Cheeto Guy leads me to these four thoughts:

1. If anyone can pull off an orange Cheeto suit at the prom, it's Andrew. I mean, at this point an orange Cheeto suit is expected and practically required. 
2. Any girl who will put up with this planned Cheeto Prom attire, is a treasure to be cherished. Fact!
3. If his date wears a blue dress they could totally get away with it, since the school colors are orange and blue. 
4. That thought conjures up this image... 

...I don't even know how to process that thought.  I just don't.

But I suspect that Andrew will have a few fantastic stories for his grandkids one day...complete with excellent photos to prove it all happened. So there's that! 

Cheeto Guy

It’s been two and a half years since my last post. Either I'm lame, lazy, or lack inspiration. Truth be told it's probably a combination of all three. Also, there was the whole COVID-19 extravaganza that sort of killed my sense of humor. But here I am, back at it. Not giving in to the absolute crap show our world has become. I WILL find humor in life...dang it!

So, with that, I give you the latest happenings at the House of Crazy.  Enter "Cheeto Guy". 

Cheeto Guy, AKA Andrew, is a monster of my own creation. It all began while Army Guy and I were Christmas shopping in 2019. We stumbled upon a Cheeto hoodie, and we both had the same light bulb moment at the exact same time. "Andrew would love that", we said in unison. Yep, we were right, Andrew did, indeed, love it. In fact, he has loved that hoodie so much he now has four Cheeto hoodies and wears NOTHING ELSE for going on three straight years. Lovely! The entire school knows Andrew as "Cheeto Guy". He's a living, breathing advertisement for the Frito-Lay company. Everywhere we go, someone from school knows him. They don't know his real name though, he's just "Cheeto Guy".  And now, by default, I am "Cheeto Guy's Mom".  See kids, the choices we make have a profound impact on everyone in the family.  

Early on I tried to get Cheeto Guy to wear something else. Especially to church. But nope... "Cheeto is my way of life, mom", Andrew explained. I had flashbacks to when Andrew was four and I let him wear any Halloween costume whenever he wanted to. It was totally normal to have breakfast with Spiderman, Ironman, or some random Ninja guy. How is this any different? Clearly the precedence was set a long time ago. So, I gave up the fight. Yup, I decided this isn’t a battle worth fighting. Cheeto Guy is a part of our family now and I have to live with the beast of my own creation. DRAT.

Recently Andrew informed me that he contacted the Frito-Lay company asking for a sponsorship. HAHAHAHA!  There you go, kiddo. If you're going to spend three years as a walking-talking billboard for Cheetos, they should at least pay you. Good thinking.  So, here's his plan: Andrew seeks a monthly stipend to continue his advertising campaign through the "Cheeto way".  Additionally, he would like to get an orange car and have it wrapped to reflect his Cheeto Lifestyle... for a fee of course. Andrew thinks this will generate enough cash for

        1) the car
        2) college 

 I like the way you think, kid.

At this time, we await a reply from Frito-Lay. I'm not holding my breath, but if I were the advertising manager for Cheetos, I might be tempted to accept this ad campaign. Just for kicks.

And now, please enjoy this Cheeto photo shoot with a sign Andrew made in woodshop. I mean...who wouldn't want this kid as their spokesman? 😂😂😂

Click here for the update to this story. It just gets better and better 😂

Disrupting the Order of the Universe

Daniel: “Mom, want to see the most

outrageous thing ever?”

Me: “sure”

Daniel: (takes a bite of a Kit Kat.)

A BITE!.... OF A KIT KAT!

He’s such a rebel!

Clearly I have failed as a mother.

That grin though... 
  

Negotiation Training 101

It was not my intent to write two similar stores about the same child back-to-back... but this child continually provides material that just begs me to blog. So, here we go. I give you Daniel and his "attorney speak" - the sequel.

It was a cold, rainy day and I was feeling somewhat lazy. Since procrastination is my super-power, I had allowed the dishes to pile up and had no interest in removing my bottom from the sofa in order to remedy the situation. Then I had this brilliant idea!!!  I could get one of the boys to do the dishes. Certainly they can be bribed, I thought. So I prepared a text for all the boys which offered "things of monetary value" in exchange for doing the dishes. And then I waited.

Moments later I received a reply from Daniel. (Of course it was Daniel. The other two just ignore such texts.) His response did not disappoint.

Ok... so one child has taken the bait, I thought.  I'm certain we can come to an agreement which allows me to continue binge watching "The Good Place", while my dishes disappear. And so negotiations began.  With an ear-to-ear grin, I replied, "both". Seconds later I received another text.

The current stock market?!?!  Who is this child? 
I didn't want to open negotiations by giving him an idea of what I was willing to pay, so I replied in such a way as to draw out his price without giving away my position.

LAWYER?!?  

Clearly he didn't want to give his price away either. Excellent, my son. Hold your cards close and wait for the offer.  

There we go! He has named his price. 

Here's your valid point right here, kid!

Listen, I know $10.00 for doing the dishes is pretty steep, however, you must understand the following:

         1) I found this entire negotiation highly amusing and 

         2) On this particular day I really was THAT lazy.

The negotiations continued:

BRITISH POUNDS???

LABOR FEE???  

So we came to an agreement. $11 USD and a mint, with the labor fee waived in this specially priced package. Clearly I was TAKEN, but again, the entertainment value alone was worth the cash. Getting the dishes done was just a bonus.

And so... my lazy butt sat on the sofa while my ultra-brilliant son did the dishes. I savored the knowledge that it is unlikely anyone will ever be able to take advantage of my son. Smart little booger that he is.

And for my critics who think a child should never be paid to do "household chores": Y'all need to lighten up. Sometimes it's okay to be silly with the kids. He learned the very useful skill of negotiation, and I got my dishes done. PLUS:  when all is said and done... I'm not sure I actually paid him. And listen, if he doesn't remember, I don't see why I need to. 

I Live With a Thirteen-Year-Old Attorney

My life is a circus. Full Stop!  That is all. 

Some day's I'm not even sure who wears the ring-master hat in this household; though I'm pretty sure the monkeys are in charge quite often. But it's okay because my monkeys are smart little boogers and they entertain me greatly. Case in point:

Every two weeks I spend Sunday and Monday in frantic preparation for the housekeeper's visit on Tuesday. I make every attempt to pick up all the stuff, which includes finishing all laundry. Sometimes I fail in this area and the laundry room floor cannot be mopped for months. The laundry.... OY... it never ends! EVER!

After such an effort to clear out the laundry room, it ticks me off beyond belief when someone decides to bring down their laundry on Monday night. This compelled me to send Army Guy a text like this:

Just two hours before the arrival of awesome housekeeper. I was LIVID!

So this week I decided to be proactive and send out an announcement to the entire family on Sunday night.

Enter Daniel, my genius (smart-@$$) 13-year-old child who, I swear, was born to be an attorney.

This prompted a lively conversation between Daniel, his dad and I. This child is too intelligent for his own good.  Anyway... there was a discussion on dictatorships, sedition, treason and the idea of a revolution with the ultimate goal of a coup to overthrow the government.  To which I replied:

And then Army Guy Posted:

This conversation concluded with the entire idea of a revolution dying a slow, silent death to the soundtrack of crickets chirping in B minor. 

And that’s how you stop a revolution!

Mommy for the win!

Note to self: it really IS time to teach these boogers how to do their own laundry. (Muahahaha)

What a Mom Wants

Photo by Norbert Buduczki on Unsplash

Guys, listen up. What I'm about to tell you is GOLD. This is the key to happiness for your wife. Are you ready? The all-time best gift for your wife is this:

HAVE HER CAR DETAILED!

It’s just that simple! All she wants is a clean car. She doesn't even know this is what she wants... but she does! And if you can anticipate this desire and meet her need before she knows she needs it, Buddy, you will unlock that place inside where all the gooey, mushy, feelings of great joy reside. You will be her hero; her number one guy! And you will reap the rewards as well.

See, before she was a mom, she enjoyed a sweet ride without nasty car seats covered in last month's spilled milk that now smell like the bottom of the trash cans... the ones on the OUTSIDE of the house. She didn't have old French fries under the seats, chicken nuggets in the cup-holders, or smears on the widows where someone just really needed to know what glass tastes like. She probably didn't have dog hair wafting throughout the air, landing on every imaginable surface and settling into a 2-inch layer of grossness on the carpet. She certainly didn’t have to play “guess that smell” every time she got into the car. 

Until the children came, she wasn’t used to driving a stinking cesspool of germs and grime that would put a Wal-Mart bathroom to shame. Her car used to be a sanctuary of cleanliness that still had that "new car smell" 28 months after you bought it. She used to have pride in her car and was able to offer anyone a lift, without notice, and without having to issue a disclaimer, "Please ignore the car. I have kids".

She just wants a clean car!!!  And you are the guy to make it happen. Take her car for an afternoon without saying a word, and watch how she responds when you return with a like-new mom-ride. You will be THE MAN! If you can swing a monthly detail service...Buddy you are GOLDEN! If not, please consider this gift for Mother's Day, her birthday, Christmas and your anniversary. Pretty much any occasion where you need a gift and are out of ideas... HERE'S YOUR HINT! 

This is what your wife wants. Forget the diamonds, flowers, stuffed teddy bears and pajama-grams. Seriously, DO NOT even consider a Pajama-gram! That's all crap (okay, maybe not the diamonds). But I promise you, if given the choice between a clean car and diamonds, five bucks says she takes the clean car. For the love of all that is pleasant and sanitary and lemony fresh...she just wants an uncontaminated ride. Or a hazmat suit...it's your call.

YOU ARE WELCOME!

Cultural Appropriation...Or Something

"Lori's House of Crazy". That's the name of this blog for a really good reason. MY HOUSEHOLD IS CRAZY! Today's offering of insanity is courtesy of thirteen-year-old Daniel, who has been perfecting his "British accent" since we stayed at the fancy hotel in Washington DC in July. Why a fancy hotel brings about a Brit accent is beyond me. It just does, okay?  Also, please note how I define "British accent" in this instance:  "an epic failure at proper English, but a massive WIN in the comedy department none-the-less."

This weekend Army Guy left for a business trip and Daniel "bid him farewell" in proper 18th century English fashion. "Goodbye Father. Do travel safely whilst I sleep." Army Guy was seriously amused. But y'all...today Daniel absolutely slayed me when he decided to speak with the accent of a British person who is attempting an American accent. Cringe-worthy and comic gold!

I finally decided that if the child was going to continue this dialect, he needed a little training. I thought maybe he would enjoy the opportunity to immerse himself in the fascinating world of Brit-speak to perfect the Queen's proper English. That's right, I conned him into suggested he should accompany me to see Downton Abbey "for research". Since he had absolutely zero clue what he was getting into, he thought it would be great to just hang out with "mum" and eat popcorn. How could that be anything but delightful? Daniel was IN! 

Half way through the movie I looked over at Daniel and he was legit staring at the ceiling. When I asked what he was doing he replied, "trying to see if my head will fit between these two seats". So.... I'm guessing he was bored or something? Listen, I knew this was not a movie Daniel would enjoy. It was a little evil of me to suggest he accompany me. But in my defense, he HAS been annoying his brothers with his really bad British accent for two months now. So he totally deserved a couple hours of torture. When I asked if he was able to pick up some of the dialect he responded with, "No, they were just too British!" Did you hear that loyal subjects of the queen? Daniel thinks your speech is just way too British. I'm not even sure what that means, but I do believe this movie has cured him of his really-bad-accent-obsession. So I'm calling that a win.

As we walked to the car I thanked Daniel for being such a great date. Daniel didn't hesitate for even a nanosecond with his reply. "I died a little on the inside".
Great, his man-training is now complete! Win number two for the mama!

Just for fun, here is Daniel with me at the grocery store last week. He's driving on the left. "Because I'm British, Mum!"

This child... 😂😂😂

An Encore Post From The Archives

The Best $17 Ever Spent... EVER!

3-Day Ticket to Disneyland - $4,000,000
The face painting that the child begged and begged for - $17
Getting this photo 4 minutes later - PRICELESS

It was the summer of 2013 and we were in the middle of a California vacation. During that trip we made a last minute decision to visit Disneyland. The Ducklings were super excited. 

On this day we were at the California Adventure Park and Dewey and Louie had spent hours begging me to take them on the Tower of Terror. Now, I love a good thrill ride, I do. Give me the scariest stink'n roller coaster you've got and I AM IN! But the Tower of Terror is not my idea of fun. AT ALL! I rode it once and that was enough for me. There were naughty words involved. Let's just leave it at that.

So I was not at all inclined to take my 6 and 7 year old sons on this torture contraption which includes the word "terror" for good reason. NOPE! But they begged and begged and, quite frankly, they just wore me down. I might have given in so that I could teach them that I really did know best and that they should just trust their mother's judgment. However it goes... I gave in.

While standing in line I tried to get them to change their minds. "It's super scary.... Please don't make mommy do this... please". It should be noted that they were too young to go on the ride alone. So if they really wanted to go, I had to go too. Why didn't Army Guy go, you ask? Bahahahahahaha...  breathe...  hahahaha... Army guy gets queasy on the Tea Cups. True story.

So we went... we screamed... it sucked... we survived. End of story. Or maybe not...

Prior to this little adventure of terror, Louie had been begging and begging to get his face painted. "Please mom... PLEASE".  He wanted it pretty badly. As luck would have it, there was a face painting stand right as we were leaving the Tower of Terror ride. So Army Guy and I decided to give in and let the child have his face painted. We knew it was a waste of $17.00, but this was Disney; at some point you stop caring about what you are spending because... whatever... right?  Disney broke us down. They are pretty good at that. 

So Louie chose his face painting design. When I say "chose" I really mean, "carefully selected... CAREFULLY". He wanted just the right one. So, Louie got his face painted and he was super happy; until he saw his reflection and then he was super not happy. Within four minutes the child began begging us to take it off. By that time we were in line for another ride so I told him, "OK, as soon as this ride is over, Daddy will take you to the bathroom to wash it off". Apparently the line was too long, or the paint was itchy, or something and Louie LOST HIS MIND. So, Army Guy left the line with Louie to go wash his face; but I made sure to get this photo first. I'm evil like that.  

In hind-sight, Louie was probably just traumatized by the Tower of Terror. But no matter the reason... I promise you... as long as I breathe... this photo will make me laugh. It just will. Army Guy and I text it back and forth to each other just for grins. Louie thinks that's just mean, but whatever. This photo cost me $4,000,017... and it was so worth it!  

This story highlights two times that my son pleaded for something that he didn't need and wasn't best for him. And two times, against my better judgement, I gave in. In the first case it was to teach him a lesson, and in the second case, to please him. Both of these instances were miserable failures. It occurred to me that this is exactly what happens when we leave the plan that God has for our lives. When we "go rouge" misery often follows.

A favorite scripture among Christians is Jeremiah 29:11.  

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord,

 "plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future".

God has big plans for our lives. He knows what is best for us in addition to what is not good at all. But often times we think we know better than God. When I was in high school I wanted this particular young man as my boyfriend. I told God what I wanted, but God "wasn't listening". I cried and begged and pleaded; my tender little hormonal teenage heart was broken. The drama was real, y'all. But God knew he had something so much better for me if I would just be patient and wait upon the Lord. 

"But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; 

they shall mount up with wings as eagles;

 they shall run, and not be weary;

 they shall walk, and not faint."  Isaiah 40:31

What if God had given my teenage heart what it wanted most of all? I can say with absolute certainty that, at some point, my face would have ended up like Louie's in this picture. No doubt! God knew that boy wasn't part of my future or my hope. He knew Army Guy and my precious "Ducklings" were the treasures He intended for me. My life is so much better than I could have ever imagined and it's all because God said "no" to what teenage me knew was best. I am overjoyed to admit I was wrong, and incredibly thankful that God said "no".

When God says "no" remember that he knows how your life will turn out and His plans for you are big. Going "rouge" never ends well... ever. Wait upon the Lord and in His perfect time He will reveal His perfect plan for you.


(Note: This post first appeared on Lori's House of Crazy on Oct 1, 2017)