Some of you may know that my daughter (code name: Legal) thinks I am The Devil. Some of you may guess that I don't care. You would be correct.
I can't tell you how excited I was when she turned eighteen, and not just because her juvenile record would be sealed. I thought she might be inspired to, oh I don't know, do something with her life. Because what eighteen year old wants to live with their mother? Especially this mother.
But it's six months later and six months closer to her being nineteen and nothing has changed. She doesn't go to school and doesn't work. She puts the dinner dishes in the dishwasher, vacuums a couple of times a week and most Sunday nights she puts The Boy and Boss Lady in the bathtub and hoses them down. In return for these Cinderella-esque tasks, she demands a weekly flat rate of $20, plus cigarette money and an endless supply of Rockstar energy drinks. The warm room and running water ... well, that's just a given.
She has broken every curfew and crossed every line drawn in the sand. She has, on several occasions, stayed out all night without so much as a phone call. I've busted her smoking pot. This doesn't come as a surprise seeing as how she has a pot leaf the size of my palm tattooed on her fucking thigh.
My daughter is beautiful and smart. She's artistic and capable of so much more than social networking and straightening her hair.
I love my daughter. In fact, I love her enough to tell her that she has to leave. And that is exactly what I've done.
So this weekend, Legal will be moving in with her uncle (Puppet Boy ) and his partner (My Gay). In exchange, I get my mother. I haven't thought of a good nickname for her yet but I'm sure that once she moves in and annoys the fuck out of me, I'll be inspired.
This could be a great thing for my daughter. She might learn a few things about leaving the nest. Simple truths, like deodorant doesn't magically appear in the medicine cabinet; that life sucks when you're out of Tampax and have to use copious amounts of toilet paper as a makeshift pad; that Top Ramen can be eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
So what's your take, Innernetz. Did you ever have to push your little birds out of the nest?
6 comments:
I didn't get pushed out of the nest...I got blasted out with a pound of C4 and a grenade. My parents were so happy to send me sailing that they moved me and everything. LOL
It wasn't that bad though because I was actually responsible enough to be on my own. I started working as soon as I was old enough and payed my own bills when I was living at home (car pmt, insurance, junk food habit, gas for said car, etc.)
I hope for your sake that she discovers all that she has to do to survive and steps up to the challenge.
Wow.... Probably the best thing for her you and for her to do. It will be ncie having your mom with you.... so you don't have to deal with everything on your own. I hope "Legal" makes some steps to doing something with herself. And I hope uncle Will doesn't make thigns easy on her either. I am proud of you Miss Spoken.... You are a great mom!
Love - Miss Auntie
Oh boy I'm not looking forward to it. My parents did when I was 18, it made me who I am. You're doing the right thing and at least you're finding a place for her.
Oh yeah Top Ramen been there done that!
You are definitely doing the right thing. I was booted as well. At the time my mom, to me, was a traitor. Unable to keep her legs together she had my baby brother when I was 18. And then had another on the way at 19. I told her she was ready for the padded room. But, as it turns out I'm a pretty darn good peep. I luvs me my brothers but they are now 19 and 20 and both pretty much live at home. They eat all her food, use all the TP, are not above shitting in a trash can (don't have me explain) have phone calls and friends over at all times. *snickering*.
Bonanza Jellybean - Holy Hell, you cannot leave us hanging like that! Shitting in the trash can?! I am sitting around my virtual campfire DYING to hear this story.
Miss Spoken Funny You - It's like a train wreck right?
Well when you use a lot of paper product and you have as much "output" as my brothers you sometimes end up with a broke shitter.
So, my mother, using her money to feed and paper these boys had no money to fix clogged shitter pipe. So for about 2 days it was non-occupoto. Being as innovative as my brothers can be, they started to shit in the trash can. There, now hand me the marshmallows....
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