The Monday Morning Epistle

I'm not sure which part of shopping with a teenager I find more annoying: being treated like a helpless dimwit, or being expected to pay for overpriced crap because all the other kids are wearing it. When Alex's skater friend came over Sunday afternoon, they decided that they should spend the afternoon hanging out at the mall. (Translation:  have one parent drive the friend to our house, then have another parent drive them to the mall.) Since Garion and Jacob both needed haircuts—and Mom deserved a Sunday afternoon without the typical thundering and sniping—I loaded everyone in our van and off we went. Along the way, Alex decided that ‘hanging out’ meant buying new grip tape for his skateboard, and by the time we got there, a new pair of skate shoes as well. (Translation:  plead for a $30 pair of sneakers that are priced at $60 because of the logo.) Sure enough, by the time the younger two were newly shorn, Alex was waiting impatiently to lead me to his favorite skateboard store, which was obviously a very trendy place. (Translation:  all three of the salesclerks, plus most of the clientele, were all expressing their rebellious non-conformance by dressing exactly alike.) I don't think it was a conscious act, but as we entered Alex told me “Dad…you can wait over there.” thus perfectly capturing his view of my role in his life.

Since I didn't wish to embarrass my son in front of his peers, I contented myself with amusing Garion just out of earshot, while Alex and his friend debated over fashion styles and personal taste issues. (Translation:  whether or not Dad can be conned into paying $75 for the ‘cool sneakers’ with the pot-smoking skull and hookers drawn on the sides.) After the obligatory rant about why he couldn't buy the ‘cool sneakers’, Alex reluctantly settled on a cheaper pair of ‘plain boring shoes’ mostly because he knew the alternative was no shoes at all. Of course, as soon as it came time to actually pay for his shoes, I became numero uno, because I hold his monetary assets in escrow. (Translation:  we no longer pay Alex in cash for chores done around the house, because the last time we did, he went out and bought $18 worth of candy.) As we were finishing up, Garion—who was clearly tiring of being trendy—started whining that he wanted to go home; Alex's unthinking solution was to promise his little brother “If you be quiet, you'll get ice cream!” This act of benevolence transformed Monkey-Boy's world into one of joy and harmony, as he started his happy dance while jubilantly announcing that he wanted “Chocolate ice cream, Daddy! I want chocolate ice cream! Yaayy!” (Translation:  Dad now has to pick up the tab for ice cream, or deal with a devastated preschooler.) Since ice cream had not been on my agenda for the evening—but I wasn't about to betray a happy dancing four year old—I agreed that we would stop for ice cream, and that Alex was buying. Naturally, when he discovered that (1) he had to buy ice cream for everybody, and (2) how much ice cream costs when everyone orders a large sundae, he was not happy, but at least had the good grace not to complain out loud.

So at the end of the day, I've not only tried to help Alex save money (repeatedly but unsuccessfully) but also spared him the embarrassment of having his mother demand that he return a brand new pair of ‘cool shoes’ as soon as she saw them. From his point of view, I'm unfairly authoritative, miserly, unreasonable, and fashion-challenged. Like I said…shopping with a teenager can be very frustrating!

KidBit: We found a box of leftover candy canes in a cupboard, and Mary gave one to Garion as dessert one evening. He eyed it suspiciously at first, then tentatively put one end into his mouth. A moment or two later, he came over and confided in me "It tastes like toothpaint!"

PotW: Every mother's nightmare. Alex has never actually driven the car, but that doesn't stop him from wishing…

Until next week…Tschüß!

,,,^..^,,,

2007.05.07-07:05