Meet the Dudes

Sunday afternoon my son trooped in with 4 of his
buddies from school and lined them up in
the foyer at attempts to introduce them to me. At first I suspected they
were going to perform a
prepared dance number,
but gauging their embarassed shuffling and twitches,
I decided that probably was pretty remote.

Son: "Mom, this is Marconi, Stebbs, Baron, and Hyde".

Me: Feeling like I'd just been introduced to my legal
Dream Tream. "Hi boys, come in , make yourselves at
home."

They each extended a rag dolls' hand to shake while
focusing on the woodgrain floor pattern before trudging single file to the family room.

I've seen more energy at a Senior Center.


Me: "Well,okay", I called after them, "I'll have some snacks out
in a minute." (and maybe a pair of shears for those
bangs, I muttered under my breath)

Son: "Mom, dont' put a ton of stuff out, we're just
going to chill here a while then head over to Axel's".

Me: Not knowing how long it would take for them to 'chill', I put out some cut up circles of bolonga and
sprinkled some raisins over it
They wouldn't be looking up from their video game before shoving a handful of food in their mouths anyways. I could have served
them cordon bleu in my underwear and they wouldn't have noticed. No need to get out the good cutlery.

I emptied the dishwasher while they engaged in 30 minutes of simulated shooting in a alley somewhere in middle America.
The only time they paused during play was to reply rapid fire to a incoming text message on their cell phones.
Similar to the youth during the Early-Man period in history, these guys communicated not by using each others
first names, but instead:

"Dude....that's so sick...
"Dude...I saw this killer looking car....
"Dude...move your fat face away from...

Me: "Okay kids, I'm going out to the gym now, you guys enjoy yourselves and we'll see you again soon."

I might as well have announced I was leaving to rendezvoux with a local cult - by this time they had taken all the sofa
cushions and placed them on the floor while Marconi was lining up the raisins on Hydes' outstretched back.

I cursed myself for serving snacks that would end up scattered over the floor like ants.
Dude, next time, I think I'll call out for pizza at least the pepperoni in the carpet will be easier to spot.