Once your children reach junior high, you’ll want to dump the minivan right away. Donating it to a charitable organizing is best, but in a time crunch, leaving it by a lone reservoir in San Jose, will take months for authorities to find it and by then you can plead insanity.
Should you stupidly hang on to your minivan during your children’s middle school years, you’re asking for a lifetime of field trip driving unless you have a friend in law enforcement that can switch your fingerprints with a local pedophile.
I was recently asked to drive for a fieldtrip for a group of 7th graders. With no time left for reservoir hunting or abandoned mine shaft browsing, I instead made a hand-out of rules and expectations to set up clear guidelines for the students in my charge. Well, no one even looked at it, but instead, crumbled the sheets up and made phallic objects out of it.
As they piled into my van I visualized a stampede of crazed wildebeests careening toward a cliff. These two legged versions included your typical Son of Damien type, moody, with slick black bangs covering one eye; the Follower, who has yet to have a growth spurt and tolerates his classmates using his skull as a drum; and the Yakker, who despite not being born in this country, talks incessantly while parking a jaw breaker on one side of her mouth.
Nonetheless, I thought to expand my role as a driver and imagined I could engage them in some stimulating conversation:
ME: So, Jeremy, are you enjoying your advanced math class?
JEREMY: (snort) Ha, the teacher’s such a douche bag and loser. He writes on the board like he’s conducting a flippin’ parade ….
ME: Uh, Eileen, are your folks working at the upcoming Carnival?
EILEEN: (sneering) If my retarded sister isn’t like, having a meltdown to piss them off and ruin our lives and make my grandma threaten to call the cops or the children’s protective services place, yeah. Man.
ME: (wondering if there’s any topic these kids can’t poison) “David, what’d you think of the new combined 7th/8th basketball squad this season?
DAVID: (leaning to one side and flexing his fingers into an arthritic pose that I guess was suppose to look ‘gangsta’) “Sheeet, we owned those schools; we would’uv won the league if they’d pass me the ball. I’d of downed that ball on those wusses”.
There’s something to be said for a morose environment; I decided to give it a try for 16 miles until the kids noticed I hadn’t made a sound except for the sucking of my teeth.
KIDS: “How ya doing Mizz Minassian”
ME: I’m swell, but as soon as we come up to this next light, I’ll be hurling myself out onto the curb…. you comfortable taking the wheel?”
KIDS: Mizz Minassian, do you think we’ll have time to stop at 7-eleven for a Slurpee and Frito Boat?
ME: Sure, and while you’re inside, ask the attendant for a book of matches so I can burn my flesh in punishment for agreeing to this trip.”
KIDS: Mizz Minassian, my chapstick just rolled under the seat and Richard won’t move his feet; can you tell him something?
ME: “Richard, move your Neanderthal feet and use that claw of a hand of yours to get before I make you eat it”!
KIDS: Miss-es Min-ahh-see-yun! Karl said he’s not feeling well and his forehead is sweating”.
ME: “Karl!” Don’t’ you dare throw up in my car or I’ll dump your lanky body at the first Wal-Mart I see and tell your parents you ran off to join a Farmer’s Market!”
At this point, I passed out my rule sheet in the hopes that I could enjoy a few silent minutes as they read, or until the throbbing blood vessel in my brain burst.
1. Inserting Cheez Whiz into your nostrils or your companions’ will not be tolerated. You may however; whip your companion with licorice twists until their back resembles the slave rowboat scene in the Ten Commandenments.
2. Singing songs are encouraged. Pasting a Band aide to the side of your face and attempting to karaoke to Nelly will result in the driver reaching back and slapping you sideways.
3. Making lewd hand gestures at passing motorists is not only un-Christian like, but could result in 6-mile car pile up, which will follow with the Sky 7 news helicopter flyer overhead and displaying your guilty face on the local evening news.
4. Please do not use binder paper to write potentially alarming notes such as “I’m being held against my will”, and “The driver is NOT my parent”, to display to passing CHP officers. The driver will not only slap you on the side of the head, but spread bed-wetting rumors about you.
5. Extra stops will not be made at convience stores, cemeteries, arcades, piñata shops, or bowling alleys. At the driver’s discretion however, quick stops are permitted at Starbucks, Nordstrom Rack, and Conchita’s Burrito Corral. Occupants will remain seated in the vehicle with the windows rolled up.
6. Occupants of the vehicle must refrain from insulting one another even if seating space is tight. Calling your classmate “highway thighs” or “body-odor play uh”, is not only cruel, but could result in the driver swerving the vehicle from laughter.
7. If you feel car sick or need the facilities, please tap the driver lightly on the shoulder and discreetly whisper something to the effect, “My system is unstable, I need a private moment”. Do not yell vulgarities, such as “I’m gonna hurl”, “The big one’s on the way”, “Gotta pause for a whizzer”, or “The doo-doo man’s a knockin’.
8. Though you may not be with a group of people you are most familiar with; use the opportunity to talk to a classmate you might otherwise avoid. However, do not use this time to inquire about your classmates’ medication dosage, family incarcerations, or unusual birthmark patterns.
9. Finally, be sure to thank the driver profusely for her unselfish act of driving, risking life and limb to ensure your education is a well-rounded and meaningful one. And rather than making a class card to express your thanks, your driver would surely accept cash donations, cruise ship tickets, a Juicy Couture bag, or a Merry Maids cleaning contract.
Have a nice trip, and when you reach your destination, try not to slam the door on your neck. Thank you.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Sock it To Me
Three o' clock Christmas Eve my teenage daughter, we'll call, Judy,
announces I must drive her to the mall to find a sock monkey for her
newly minted boyfriend. To also protect his identity, we'll call him
Harry although Cabbage Head is more fitting. A nice enough fellow
despite his low slung jeans and some kind of pink crochet bucket hat
he wears that only sets off his slapped-check look. For some reason I
hear Marley music in the background when I see that hat.
Did I mention I tried reasoning with Judy to avoid a trip to the mall.
Me: The mall is going to be too busy now and we'll never get a parking
unless we resort to gunfire.
Couldnt' we just drive to Safeway and get him a gift card?
Judy: (wide-eyed with horror) That's so sketch, mom, so retarded. I'm
not going to just hand him some cheap gift card. That doesn't even
like, take planning."
Me: Planning? Weeks ago, I would have hired a contractor to nail some
two by fours into a personal neck-tie caddy for him to avoid the mall.
Judy: Mutherrrr! It won't be that bad, you drop me off and I'll meet
you inside at Zumi's or something.
I knew dropping her off would require me to then circle the parking
lot for 35 more minutes which wouldn't be so bad if she was actually
looking for a gift. But I know she'll make a detour into Sephora,
House of Cosmetics For The Professional Stage Actor, and then dive
into Forever 21 for a peek at the sateen jacket I told her I'd never
buy even if the disco look came back.
Not that I'd find a parking though I'd probably get close. I'd see a
shopper, bags in tow walking hesitantly looking for her car, head
bobbing, rooster-like trying to recall if she even parked at the mall
or across the interstate at IHOP. I'll be filled with hope as she
spots her car and pops her trunk only to become aware of my presence
and smiley sweetly and shake her head, that no, she's not leaving.
I'll whisper a voodoo curse I recall from Gilligins' Island and speed off.
All the while, Judy texts me from somewhere in the mall: Whr r u?
So now, as I have until Jan 1st in California to text while driving, I
reply: STILL LOKN 4 PKNG
If I had the time I'd like to write instead:
B hind a colosal suv inhalng fums whle they unload 13 mbrs of ther
fmly n wait whil da stupid drivr kiss evry 1 bye as if they leavn 4 a
cruise to Brmuda Triangl.
But I don't because I spot a car backing out and speed toward it. I
can't believe my luck as I swing into the parking only to discover
it's for Safeway and I WILL BE TOWED AT OWNER'S EXPENSE if I park
there without shopping at Safeway.
Okay, I can play this game. I head into the grocery store, surely I
can buy something, dish soap, floss, english muffins, laxatives,
anything. I grab a box of hair relaxer and a pack of Orbit gum and get
in the express line. Meanwhile, another text from Judy: HURY ME IN
LINE NEED MONI
I reply I'm on my way, as I pay the cashier and ignore his looks as he
bags my hair relaxer and gum. He has the customer service skills of a
goat and dead-pan asks me if i'm aware that the relaxer is buy-one-get
one-free? I tell him one is enough and to hurry him up I tell him that
my husband is on oxygen in the car, while extending my hand for my
change.
I'm ready to grab a plastic bag and close his airway as he slowly
opens a roll of nickles and counts out my coins which he finally hands
over with a 6 foot receipt that now includes coupons for things I
wouldn't buy if it was my last free day on the planet.
Purchases in tow, I head into the mall, aware that the Safeway
security guy is watching me but what can he do, I used his store
didn't I. I'm officially a shopper at Safeway, the sign didn't say I
had to stay only in Safeway. I figure as long as I kept the store
bag with me, I'd be safe.
Ten minutes later I find Judy in a store called Rox Shox, impatiently
standing off to the side near the register.
Judy: "Oh my gawd, you took forever!"
Me: "There are 9000 people out there equivalent to a border crossing
during war time. It slowed me down a bit"
Judy: Okay, whatever. I need your card for this top then we'll head
over to Macy's and get the sock monkey,andthenwehav etostop
andgetascarftogowit hit......
Me: You're buying a top? Just get the monkey and lets go.
Judy: Mutherrr! I need this for Sonia's party!
Me: You have 8 other tops just like this.
The clerk interrupts us and loudly lets us know she can't hold
merchandise beyond one hour.
I mumble something about her red tips and lack of personality as I
fish for my credit card. Too mortifying for my daughter, she hisses
she'll 'wait outside for me'. Leaving me alone with Miss Snarly Check
Out Girl.
"You need a gift receipt with this", she drawls.
I reply, "No, but a travel size vial of Valium will do".
She gives me a dead stare as she hands me my bag. I can handle her
dirty looks I tell myself as I turn to leave, taking consolation that
she probably can't even spell Valium.
Judy and I head to Macy's where we discover (surprise) that they are
out of the traditional brown sock monkeys and only have the key-chain
size type left. Judy nearly spirals to the floor in Wicked Witch of
the West melting fashion, as she bemoans the situation and I helpfully
suggest we just buy him a bottle of colonge.
Recovering, she replies, "just forget it. I'll make him a sock
monkey". Let go to Joann Fabrics for the stuff."
Me; Oh sure, and while we're there, maybe we can order some genuine
imported mohair from the women in Peru to sew on and give the monkey
that natural hair look.
Judy: Mutherrr! We need to hurry, everything closes early today!
I began to wonder if I actually went through labor and delivery with
this child and instead entertain the idea that we were given her by
some lovely couple, poor, but determined for their child to have a
good life.
No. Who am I kidding. I've been at this kids' beck and call since she
was in the womb and wouldn't let me drink my traditional 3 cups of
coffee a day without kicking and turning for days. Which reminded me I
desperately needed a cup now and suggested to her that we swing by
Starbucks.
Judy: Now?! Look at the line! Just wait till we get home. Oh my gawd,
why didn't you buy some earlier or something?
Rightfully scolded, what was I thinking, not planning ahead and making
myself a cup of coffee at home and putting it into my car cup.
Back at the car the Safeway parking lot guard hustles over as I
climbed into my seat. I don't roll the window down as he starts
telling me something about 'walking away from my car after shopping..."
"Okay", I wave, and showd him my Safeway bag as I back up. Smiling
and waving I point to my ear, and shake my head, to indicate I
can't hear him.
Back on the freeway I suggested to my daughter that maybe next year
she order stuff online and have it sent.
Judy: Wow, I like know that already and bought your gift that way only
it's super lame and won't arrive until February cuz it's so backed
up." I wanted Harry to open the monkey on Christmas day."
For once in the 3 years since she became a teenager, I understood her
as I recalled the mail order I placed when she was eight years old and
had to have the RealMeal Easy Bake Oven,so I paid $20 extra for
overnight shipping so she'd have it on Christmas Day.
Me: You're right. He should open it on Christmas Day; and the one
you'll make will probably look ten times cuter than the store bought
kind."
She looked over at me warily, sizing me up, her look telling me that
maybe I wasn't sub-human after all. Nah, she probably just noticed the
hair relaxer on the seat is for 'ethnic hair styling needs'.
Happy New Year.
announces I must drive her to the mall to find a sock monkey for her
newly minted boyfriend. To also protect his identity, we'll call him
Harry although Cabbage Head is more fitting. A nice enough fellow
despite his low slung jeans and some kind of pink crochet bucket hat
he wears that only sets off his slapped-check look. For some reason I
hear Marley music in the background when I see that hat.
Did I mention I tried reasoning with Judy to avoid a trip to the mall.
Me: The mall is going to be too busy now and we'll never get a parking
unless we resort to gunfire.
Couldnt' we just drive to Safeway and get him a gift card?
Judy: (wide-eyed with horror) That's so sketch, mom, so retarded. I'm
not going to just hand him some cheap gift card. That doesn't even
like, take planning."
Me: Planning? Weeks ago, I would have hired a contractor to nail some
two by fours into a personal neck-tie caddy for him to avoid the mall.
Judy: Mutherrrr! It won't be that bad, you drop me off and I'll meet
you inside at Zumi's or something.
I knew dropping her off would require me to then circle the parking
lot for 35 more minutes which wouldn't be so bad if she was actually
looking for a gift. But I know she'll make a detour into Sephora,
House of Cosmetics For The Professional Stage Actor, and then dive
into Forever 21 for a peek at the sateen jacket I told her I'd never
buy even if the disco look came back.
Not that I'd find a parking though I'd probably get close. I'd see a
shopper, bags in tow walking hesitantly looking for her car, head
bobbing, rooster-like trying to recall if she even parked at the mall
or across the interstate at IHOP. I'll be filled with hope as she
spots her car and pops her trunk only to become aware of my presence
and smiley sweetly and shake her head, that no, she's not leaving.
I'll whisper a voodoo curse I recall from Gilligins' Island and speed off.
All the while, Judy texts me from somewhere in the mall: Whr r u?
So now, as I have until Jan 1st in California to text while driving, I
reply: STILL LOKN 4 PKNG
If I had the time I'd like to write instead:
B hind a colosal suv inhalng fums whle they unload 13 mbrs of ther
fmly n wait whil da stupid drivr kiss evry 1 bye as if they leavn 4 a
cruise to Brmuda Triangl.
But I don't because I spot a car backing out and speed toward it. I
can't believe my luck as I swing into the parking only to discover
it's for Safeway and I WILL BE TOWED AT OWNER'S EXPENSE if I park
there without shopping at Safeway.
Okay, I can play this game. I head into the grocery store, surely I
can buy something, dish soap, floss, english muffins, laxatives,
anything. I grab a box of hair relaxer and a pack of Orbit gum and get
in the express line. Meanwhile, another text from Judy: HURY ME IN
LINE NEED MONI
I reply I'm on my way, as I pay the cashier and ignore his looks as he
bags my hair relaxer and gum. He has the customer service skills of a
goat and dead-pan asks me if i'm aware that the relaxer is buy-one-get
one-free? I tell him one is enough and to hurry him up I tell him that
my husband is on oxygen in the car, while extending my hand for my
change.
I'm ready to grab a plastic bag and close his airway as he slowly
opens a roll of nickles and counts out my coins which he finally hands
over with a 6 foot receipt that now includes coupons for things I
wouldn't buy if it was my last free day on the planet.
Purchases in tow, I head into the mall, aware that the Safeway
security guy is watching me but what can he do, I used his store
didn't I. I'm officially a shopper at Safeway, the sign didn't say I
had to stay only in Safeway. I figure as long as I kept the store
bag with me, I'd be safe.
Ten minutes later I find Judy in a store called Rox Shox, impatiently
standing off to the side near the register.
Judy: "Oh my gawd, you took forever!"
Me: "There are 9000 people out there equivalent to a border crossing
during war time. It slowed me down a bit"
Judy: Okay, whatever. I need your card for this top then we'll head
over to Macy's and get the sock monkey,andthenwehav etostop
andgetascarftogowit hit......
Me: You're buying a top? Just get the monkey and lets go.
Judy: Mutherrr! I need this for Sonia's party!
Me: You have 8 other tops just like this.
The clerk interrupts us and loudly lets us know she can't hold
merchandise beyond one hour.
I mumble something about her red tips and lack of personality as I
fish for my credit card. Too mortifying for my daughter, she hisses
she'll 'wait outside for me'. Leaving me alone with Miss Snarly Check
Out Girl.
"You need a gift receipt with this", she drawls.
I reply, "No, but a travel size vial of Valium will do".
She gives me a dead stare as she hands me my bag. I can handle her
dirty looks I tell myself as I turn to leave, taking consolation that
she probably can't even spell Valium.
Judy and I head to Macy's where we discover (surprise) that they are
out of the traditional brown sock monkeys and only have the key-chain
size type left. Judy nearly spirals to the floor in Wicked Witch of
the West melting fashion, as she bemoans the situation and I helpfully
suggest we just buy him a bottle of colonge.
Recovering, she replies, "just forget it. I'll make him a sock
monkey". Let go to Joann Fabrics for the stuff."
Me; Oh sure, and while we're there, maybe we can order some genuine
imported mohair from the women in Peru to sew on and give the monkey
that natural hair look.
Judy: Mutherrr! We need to hurry, everything closes early today!
I began to wonder if I actually went through labor and delivery with
this child and instead entertain the idea that we were given her by
some lovely couple, poor, but determined for their child to have a
good life.
No. Who am I kidding. I've been at this kids' beck and call since she
was in the womb and wouldn't let me drink my traditional 3 cups of
coffee a day without kicking and turning for days. Which reminded me I
desperately needed a cup now and suggested to her that we swing by
Starbucks.
Judy: Now?! Look at the line! Just wait till we get home. Oh my gawd,
why didn't you buy some earlier or something?
Rightfully scolded, what was I thinking, not planning ahead and making
myself a cup of coffee at home and putting it into my car cup.
Back at the car the Safeway parking lot guard hustles over as I
climbed into my seat. I don't roll the window down as he starts
telling me something about 'walking away from my car after shopping..."
"Okay", I wave, and showd him my Safeway bag as I back up. Smiling
and waving I point to my ear, and shake my head, to indicate I
can't hear him.
Back on the freeway I suggested to my daughter that maybe next year
she order stuff online and have it sent.
Judy: Wow, I like know that already and bought your gift that way only
it's super lame and won't arrive until February cuz it's so backed
up." I wanted Harry to open the monkey on Christmas day."
For once in the 3 years since she became a teenager, I understood her
as I recalled the mail order I placed when she was eight years old and
had to have the RealMeal Easy Bake Oven,so I paid $20 extra for
overnight shipping so she'd have it on Christmas Day.
Me: You're right. He should open it on Christmas Day; and the one
you'll make will probably look ten times cuter than the store bought
kind."
She looked over at me warily, sizing me up, her look telling me that
maybe I wasn't sub-human after all. Nah, she probably just noticed the
hair relaxer on the seat is for 'ethnic hair styling needs'.
Happy New Year.
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