Friday, January 19, 2007

Mafia mom

I'm about 99% sure the girl Daniel was planning to ask to the prom turned him down last night. He came home from the Brain Game match looking very downcast, and I knew immediately he'd been crying because of his red, puffy eyes. All he would say when I asked him what was wrong was that he just wanted to be alone and think about things.

Naturally, I wanted to express my anger at this little hussy who turned him down by breaking into Al Capone's rant about Eliot Ness in The Untouchables: "I want him DEAD! I want his family DEAD! I want his house burned to the GROUND!" Everyone expresses their emotions with movies quotes, right? I did show some restraint, however, and limited myself to telling him he could talk to me anytime, if he changed his mind. Arrrgghhh. All the times I thought my heart was broken--they were nothing compared to what I'm feeling now over his first heartbreak. He'll get over it, I know, and I'd be more than a little worried if he never felt anything this deeply. Still . . . well, you know what I mean.

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My parents are arriving around noon with the car. I forgot to mention that although it's in good shape, it's a '91 model, so don't envy me too much! Still, it's two years newer than the Amigo, so to me, it's practically brand-new. I drive cars forever, until they're falling apart in the driveway. In the case of my first car, a spiffy red Datsun, it was literally falling apart before I got rid of it. It was rusting so badly that chunks of it were dropping off, like a giant red molting snake. It was a great car, though. It withstood all kinds of abuse and neglect from me and always started up obediently, even in subzero weather and on a perpetually near-empty tank. I was so sad when I finally had to admit it was terminal that I think my dad was tempted to tell me it was going to a big farm in the country, where it would have plenty of room to run around and stretch its wheels and lots of other subcompact foreign cars to play with. Scarlett would have liked that.

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Hee! My mom just called me from her cellphone to tell me they're running a little late. She uses it only when she and my dad are traveling, so she's not used to it and is convinced you have to scream into cellphones to be heard. I had to hold MY phone away from my ear about six inches to avoid hearing damage.

Time to do a last-minute Parental Visit Check for dust tumbleweeds rolling across the floor and dirty dishes in the sink!