Thursday, 23 July 2009

Day 7 in the School Holiday house only 49 to go

Can someone give me a map so I can navigate the minefield that is teenage hormones... please? I thought, bad start I know, that once the school holidays started the minefield that is the relationship between me and He-man would be much improved given that the major obstacle ( school ) was out of the picture. How wrong could I be.

Firstly...He has no credit on his phone as after many threats to do so I have switched his phone from contract to pay as you go. This means he cannot ring me to tell me where he is. I do ring him, however this gets ignored. So we have already clocked up a few AWOLS.

Having managed to squeeze in a couple of hours of unexpected mother and son bonding time on Tuesday whilst Shera is on DoitforReal course somewhere in UK I was quite taken aback that this could so quickly change whilst I was out of the house for less than 2 hours. I came back to the house, found him slumped over the PC fielding numerous msn and facebook messages under a black cloud of doom. What on earth had gone on. I immediately offered a shoulder to cry on in a very tactful/casual-let's-not-make-a-big-deal-out-of-this way whereby he stormed off to the bathroom ( for 2 hours! Tommy tanking again ) and told me I should die. God I thought some thing serious must have happened. Maybe he has been fired for being the most unreliable paper boy ever or maybe one of the many girls have dumped him. I finally found yesterday that he had gone too far apparently in telling a friend what he though of him and hadn't liked the response from said friend. Was that it? I thought, all that melodrama for that? what is he going to be like if he does lose paper round, girlfriend etc? Lock himself in the bathroom for a whole night Tommy Tanking.

In addition to this he has immediately fast forwarded to operating at the complete opposite end of the day to me. I had expected this but it to have been a gradual process not "I am going to bed at 2:30am in the first week." We had words about this on Sunday night given I had to go to work the next day. It was all "Unacceptable, unfair and whilst he thinks he is being quiet he tiptoes round like the dancing elephants in Dumbo." (me ) Him - "sorry mum wont do it again ." Point made - so I thought. Last night he did it again. He blames his bedroom door for waking me up as it makes some bizarre farting noise every time it opens or shuts and that the dog who had rolled in fox shit was omitting noxious fumes that I couldn't possibly sleep through. None of it of course was his fault. " Oh and can I have some money to go to town tomorrow mum please " SAY WHAT!

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