The Crazy Suburban Mom: The 18th birthday

Thursday, April 30, 2009

The 18th birthday

I'd been wondering what 18 year olds do on their 18th birthday in the year 2009.

When I turned 18, we did all the normal things...

We lied to our parents, went some where to drink beer, threw-up in a parking lot and talked about how adult we now were.

Not so in 2009.

All my son's friends have gotten tattoos.

I've talked to him about it...

How are you going to manage a tattoo? You pass out when you get shots?

I know.

Not just shots... Remember you passed out when you got allergy tested. That didn't even break the skin... There wasn't even blood.

(eye-roll) Oh, like that's still going to happen.

Honey, get real, the allergy testing was last May.

Yeah, but a tattoo is different.

Oh. Well, you have me there. (insert eye-roll of my own here)

See, there isn't all that much I can say, having my own tattoo and all. And it's not even that I mind so much... I just don't see how he can make it through a tattoo of a lower case "i" let alone the guitar with wrap-around banner, and added text he's planning.

But that's the thing. He's got his mind made up and he's nothing if not set in his ways. He's always been his own guy.

See this little guy?


That's my very determined boy.

Back than hated talking toys. He didn't want anything inanimate to talk to him. He once bolted from FAO Schwartz when that talking tree got going. He hated (Thank Goodness) Chicken Limbo. And when I bought him a music tape that used his name;hearing that bodiless voice creeped him out so much he ran from his room and didn't go back for days.

But see him in that picture? Sitting so intensely watching The Truck Video. So focused on what he's doing?


Every morning for, I don't know how long, he would walk to my room and ask me to put the truck video on. ( The Truck Video was a video of a construction site ... That's it. Just a construction site.) No script, no dialog...just lots of dirt, lots of trucks and the occasional explosion filled my mornings for the better part of a year.

But even back than when he wanted something he didn't let the facts get in the way (Sort of like what he's doing now. Thinking he can get a tattoo despite never remaining conscious for a single injection). That hatred for talking toys? Frank talked. But he liked Frank therefore Frank was okay.

An aside on Frank. Frank said, "I'm alive!" But there was nothing I could do to convince that boy he was saying that. They would walk around the house together all Frankensteiny, Frank saying, I'm alive and my son saying, I'm a Lime.

And he has a steadfast determination, too. He watched that truck video everyday, forever. At his age watching that video everyday was the equivalent of doing the same thing for decades.

I'm guessing there is a tattoo in my - er, I mean his future.

Or at least part of one...


Zeemaid 4/30/09, 1:59 PM  

*LOL* I love that picture of your boy! Good luck on the tattoo front. I'm dreading those years. :( Love the "i'm a lime" That really cracked me up.

thanks for following... :)

tracy 4/30/09, 2:17 PM  

Zee, Its a whole new world when they are about to turn 18. I mean, wow.

It makes the whole "Age 2 'No!' thing remarkably benign seeming. When I could just pick him up and haul him off if he was doing something I didn't like? Don't think that would work in a tattoo parlor.


Anna See 4/30/09, 6:49 PM  

18??? Yikes! I just can't imagine at this point.

I think we had the train equivalent of that construction video. Just a lot of trains driving by...

Kmphillips73 5/1/09, 12:14 PM  

Hey, we had that toy too. He wasn't really saying I'm a lime? Sure sounded like it!

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