Tuesday, March 5, 2013

It is never the mess you make, it is how you clean it up.  I totally believe in this.  Totally.

When Mr. Phelps had his pickle years ago after his famous Olympics, I was astounded.  He was caught on film, smoking something in a tube.  At a party.  Kellogg's dropped Mr. Phelps and he lost major dollars in endorsements.  Not that he needed the money.  I always felt that Kellogg's lost a big opportunity there. 

Make better choices all day long, start with a better Breakfast.  Kellogg's.  Better choices all day.  Mr. Phelps could have turned his questionable choices around and been a spokesperson for better choices.

Mr. Armstrong is another example.  Instead of sitting on a couch like a pompous ass, he could have gone to the authorities, admitted guilt and said, "Here is how I am going to make it right, I am going to college universities and speaking to young people about illegal drugs, especially steroids and to middle schools about bullying." 

This past weekend, my kids spent the ENTIRE weekend with another group of kids.  They played MANHUNT all night on Friday and then passed out.  Out.

Then, Saturday, they played Fort, MANHUNT, built spears, played cops and robbers and were outside the ENTIRE weekend.  Windburned and exhausted.  Like the olden days.  It was awesome.  I didn't always see them, but they would run in the house, use the bathroom, grab some food and yell, "see ya mom, we are having fun." 

Sunday night, when I tucked Adeline in she said, "this was the best weekend of my life."  AWESOME.

And then the email came out.

The email to all the home owners in the "hood".  Apparently, as the email sited, there were kids, 14-11 playing with spears who vandalized the neighborhood club house.  Boys and Girls the email said.

Now, I am NOT the mother who says "not my kids."  I am ALWAYS the mother who says, "My kid.'

I called the other kid's mom.  Now known as OKM.  She is also the kind of mom who says, "Yep, my kid."

She says, "Oh, I don't think so.  I will ask my kids when they get home."

The next call I hear from her, her blood pressure is about 300 over 300 and she is fired up.

It was her kid.  And another one of her kids watched and did nothing.

Hell hath nor furry like a mother scorned.

She calls her Military husband out of a meeting, he flies home and the cleanup begins.  Her kids turn in phones, x-boxes, food, beds, shoes, etc.  (just kidding about some of that).

She makes them get dressed and go the homeowner president, apologize, with a check to pay for the damages, and to offer their services for the ENTIRE year (free labor) and to tell them that they were going directly to the ball field to clean it up.  The only thing missing were black and white striped outfits with numbers on the back.

Then, I had to explain to my kids why those kids were in trouble.  I explain one did it and the other stood and watched.  Then I discover, my kids knew about ANOTHER incident the same day where they stood and watched.

Now, we have innocent bystanders not being so innocent.  And so the lesson learning begins.

Except for one of the culprits.  His parents did nothing.

And he is a repeat offender, about 15 times over, that we know about.  Always the kid doing wrong things, and NOTHING ever happens.  And that is the parent's fault.

In the recap phone call with the OKM, despite our children's misgivings, we had to give them kudos for finding drugs and paraphernalia and going to the state trooper in the hood to handle it.  That was awesome.

At least when the poked holes with the spears, they made smiley faces.

I thought about this situation as I drifted off to sleep.  I thought about it first thing this morning.  When you are the mother of a child who has tons of pending charges, smiley faces in some drywall does not seem so significant but you still have to clean it up.  Regardless. 


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