Showing posts with label Raising girls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Raising girls. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

Snippets Overheard While Raising My Non-Domestic Goddess

By Robin Weaver

My daughter has matured into a delightful young woman and I’m extremely proud of her.  The journey to this delightfulness hasn’t always been so…pleasant.  Like most moms with rather—shall we say headstrong—teenagers, there were more teeth-grinding moments than smooth roller-blading. In hindsight, some of the interchanges with my daughter now seem a bit comical.

As part of this month’s potpourri, I thought I’d share some of the more amusing comments (even if they did result in me pulling out my hair when initially released. 😊) Here are some of my daughter’s comments from years past.

§  What? 2,227 text messages in one month is a lot?

§  Whaddya mean I’m outta money? I’ve still got a whole book of checks.

§  How many cups in a gallon? Isn’t that a song by N-Sync?

§  Why can’t I dry just one pair of socks and nothing else?

§  Brittney’s cousin Scott…that’s “who the hell” told me I didn’t have to file a tax return.

§  I was going to tell you about my report card…next semester when my grades are better.

§  For the millionth time… I cannot hear you knocking over my blow-dryer.

§  Said to my late husband… Of course, I haven’t forgotten what you said about wasting shampoo. I just need more than you. You wash your head with a facecloth.

§  I thought the guy at Jiffy Lube was supposed to tell me when I needed an inspection sticker. I can’t read those things.

§  As a matter of fact, I DO know several guys who would wear an orange jumpsuit in public.

§  Overdraft Protection? No I didn’t read the Debit Card Agreement, I specifically told that guy at the bank that I wanted an account that would tell ME when I was out of money.

§  Tons of my friends have three-hundred-dollar cellphone bills. You’re so old school.

§  They said they’ll turn my phone back on just as soon as I come up with the three hundred dollars…duh.

§  How am I supposed to get a job if my cellphone is shut-off…I mean how would they get in touch with me?

SIDE NOTE: God bless the unlimited text/data plans. 😊


Below all some all-too-rare occasions when Mom got the upper hand…

§  Said during the cramped time we lived in a tiny apartment while building our house: I’m well aware that we have only one bathroom. Are you aware that its only three blocks to the Texaco station?

§  No, I can’t turn my music down so you can pretend to do your homework.

§  No, you cannot eat Oreos for breakfast.  The elves said “no.”

Final score: Her-2,227, Me-3.
But I have the best consolation prize ever. No matter if it’s Christmas, Mother’s Day, or even St. Patrick’s Day, my card is always signed with those three little words that make everything else worthwhile: “Love you bunches.”
We’ll overlook the fact she still doesn’t know how many cups in a gallon. 😊


Wishing you a holiday filled with love and laughter.
Robin