What if I’M the kind you don’t take home to mutha’?
I got into a fight with my office mate Jay, more like a kerfuffle. He didn’t believe when I told him my teenage girls have never drink/drank/drunk or smoked pot. He said I was delusional and he was sure his mom thought the same thing. And then I thought, my mom probably thought the same thing too. And the more I argued that I had really good girls, the more I sounded like I didn’t, so I came home and grounded all of them just in case I missed something.
Mind you, this conversation happened after he and I were at a liquor store at 10:00 am to get Stranahan’s whiskey for our boss’ birthday.
And I think based on my teen years, it is hard to believe my kids are so good, but I’ve said before I think it was a different time and I grew up in a smaller town. There are no arcades here for my kids to go play foosball and buy weed. No Korean grocer who will sell them Mad Dog 20 20. And my kids don’t go anywhere. Moonshine’s only 15, and I’ll spare you the details of what I was doing at 15, but Sunshine was a self-described theatre nerd and she’s never anywhere I don’t know about. But maybe my mom thought that about me.
I wasn’t a good kid though. I was sneaky and manipulative and lied a lot. But due to my previous marriage, my tolerance for lying is nil. Less than nil if it could be. I think that’s why I want to know things, even the mundane, because I spent a lot of years with someone who kept everything from me.
Speaking of monkeys, I had a whole paragraph here about how he wants to be my financial advisor and ended with this sentence – I’m going to get drunk now. And then I deleted it. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day. It’s a new life for me and I’m feeling good. Me and Michael Buble.