again...my son manages to horrify me

I firmly believe that my son was placed on earth and into my arms for the sole purpose of humiliating me. I'm referring to my older son, Ben. And here's the weird thing of it all...he's my good boy. For others, he is so well behaved, a rule follower, a type A personality, a typical first-born-pleaser. So, why does he turn my golden, brown locks grey?

I take pride in how my children dress, I do. I'm not ashamed of that either. I make effort to make sure their clothes are clean, pressed and well put together. (exceptions are made on gym day and during school breaks). An example of how my son tortures me is when I show up to school to help out in the classroom and his nose is crusted with boogers, his sweater is hanging off of his arms, his laces are untied and the tongues of his shoes are loosely dangling from the tops of his shoes. I was furious. This is not how I sent him to school. I wouldn't even talk to him until he went and cleaned his nose.

Another example is how each day, I make a beautiful lunch for my precious child. A sandwich, a fruit, a snack, a yogurt or pudding, and maybe a small piece of candy if I'm feeling extra nice that morning. So, I'm out in the hall reading with his classmates and I know that the rest of the class is having snack time. This is where the students can get a snack out of their lunch box and if they don't have a snack, they lay out their paper towel and that's a signal to the rest of the class that he/she doesn't have a snack that day and the students then take pity on this poor child whose mother doesn't love him/her and they share their snacks with this unfortunate child. It's my son's turn to read with me, so he comes out in the hall and greets me with a hug. I asked him what he chose out of his lunch box that day to have as his snack. "Nuthin. I just put out my napkin and all the other kids give me their snacks". My face drops, my smile disappears, my eyes narrow in on him. He turned and made a bee-line for the door. According to his teacher, this is a regular habit of his. Now, everyone thinks I'm the grubby mom that doesn't pack a snack. Like I need this aggrevation.

Lastly, (well, not lastly because God knows he horrifies me each and every day but for all intents and purposes...lastly) A while back, my son was paired up with a 5th grade "buddy" and they were assigned to interview each other. Oh, I saw the Q&A, alright. My son's answers went something like this:

What's your favorite color: black and blue (you know, like bruises)
What's your favorite smell: smoke (he meant chimney or bonfire smoke, but still....what would you assume he meant?)
What's your favorite song: Welcome to the Jungle by GNR and Gold Digger by Kanye West. (choice tunes for a 6 yr old, wouldn't you agree?)

I was half expecting him to talk about his turn on's & turn off's or his favorite martini garnishes. Really? I was like, "Do you want mommy to go to jail"?

....not to be confused with the time he told our pediatrician that he drinks pop "ALL THE TIME" (btw, I NEVER let him drink pop). And also not to be confused with the time he told his entire preschool class how to make a peanut butter & jelly sandwich by telling them they "don't even think about making a mess" and "you should probably pray before you eat, even though my mom never does". Nice!

If given the opportunity that child would throw me under a bus--not even a question! He never passes up a chance to prove me wrong or embarrass me. Those who know him probably wouldn't believe any of this. Oh no, they think he's such a sweet, smiley, charming, child. Let me tell you, he's part little boy, part pure evil and he's mine, all mine. Through and through, he is my son. The other one (the dumb one) belongs to his father. Ben is mine.