Mama’s Bitch

So I guess I should start this one by saying, “Zac - if you are reading this in computer lab with your friends again, you might want to go to another site.”

Zac’s been busy with basketball now that we are ramping up to the real deal.  They’ve been playing tournaments the last week or so to get ready. Last week, the tourney was in Ventura.  Tuesday night, Ron and I went out to watch and had an awesome time.  Zac had a great game and we were very proud.  He seemed to be the model child while fluttering around the court saying hi to everyone he knew after the game.

We decided to give him a ride home and stopped at a sports bar & grill for a quick bite to eat - tragic food … but still … had a fabulous time with said model child.  Came home and Zac asked if I would mind doing a load of laundry for him so his uniform would be clean for the game the next day.  Ok … model child … I can do that for you.

I toss the load of laundry in the washing machine and then go into the office to work on my to-do list which was still long since I left for the afternoon.  11:30 pm I tell Ron that we should be done and we head to bed.  Then I remembered the laundry as I was crawling into bed.  Ugh.  I come downstairs and go to toss the wet clothes into the dryer only to learn that there was already a load in the dryer that the boy hadn’t folded.  I thought about folding it … but come on … it’s midnight and it’s HIS fault that they’re not folded.  So I do what any exhausted Mama would do … I toss the load into the dryer with the load that was in there and go to bed.

So Wednesday morning comes along and I woke up to make lunches for Ron and Zac.  Zac woke up late and apparently on the grumpy/dramatic side of the bed.  He goes downstairs and flings open the dryer door and says, “ugh it’s stuffed - mumble mumble mumble“.  I come in from the kitchen and as I walk in, Zac pulls out the pair of jeans that he wanted to wear and the legs are all kinds of twisted up … not just a little bit but like when you wring out the towel you’re washing the car with kind of twisted up.  He said, “they’re ruined“.  It was at THIS precise moment that he was no longer a model child and I was certainly not a model parent.  My head spun around and my fingertips reached out and popped him on the top of the head.  Before I knew what was happening, I said, “Stop being a little bitch - get the f*c*ing iron out and stop whining about wrinkles you drama queen“.

The morning was immediately set on a path of no return.  He tried to tell me he was being sarcastic … but I am not buying that.  He’s not THAT quick.  He goes to school and I go to the Think Tank meeting - we both put on a happy face and that was the end of it.

UNTIL last night when we were in the car and he said someone was whining and bitching at practice to which I said, “you mean like you the other morning?”  He cracked a smile and said … “yeah that’s right … I’m my Mama’s Bitch“.

Thank you … now that we have THAT established … I’m good!

I’ll just file this under life lessons on how to deal with women in your life … just admit you’re the bitch and things will be alllllll right!  *wink*