Riding in the Car with Boys, Sethanese, and Satan's Butthole

We had a long day yesterday.  We drove 3 1/2 hours to Evansville to go to a wedding for one of Jill's childhood friends.  This is the third of four out of state weddings that she's in -- one more to go -- in the period of three months.  Basically, it's an "always a bridesmaid" trend that she seems to have started when she got married last year, but I'm ok with it, cause we have gotten to see her more than normal.  I'm not complaining.

The boys rode down with us.  To clarify:  Thomas and Seth rode down with us, because my pseudo-son Chris was already down there, since he was also in the wedding.  Thomas and Seth came out and spent the night here, which was nice, but it was all in the plan, so we didn't have to a) drive into town to get them and b) wait for them to get ready, because we all know that they would still be asleep when we went to pick them up.  The mother knows her boys.

So, somehow on the way down, they got into a discussion about heights.  Specifically, fear of heights.  To be more specific, FALLING from heights.  Seth remarked that he thought Thomas was afraid of heights, to which Thomas replied "nah, I am afraid of ladder heights.  I'm not afraid of high heights.  I'm afraid of falling off a ladder and getting hurt.  I figure if you fall off a tall enough height, like a bridge, or a building, then you're gonna die, so there's nothing to be afraid of, cause you're just gonna be dead.  I'd rather be dead then in pain."  Seth replied that it'd probably suck on the way to dying, and you'd probably be scared too.  "But if I was falling from a height like that, I'd probably just fan out like a flying squirrel."

Huh?

We went to the wedding and reception, which was an odd mishmash of formalwear, jeans and boots, and an old tightly-pulled woman in what I thought was snakeskin print pants, only to find out while in the buffet line that I think they were actually snakeskin print sweats.  I mean, is there really such a thing?  Combine that with the guy walking around in actual sweats and a baseball cap, and it kept people watchers like Jim and me busy all night.  He was particularly enjoying watching a former church friend/lush, who walked in with her own Minute Maid container (full of cherry vodka) that she drank dry before the wedding started, then switched to wine, then beer.  I'm sure she was feeling it today, but that's her M.O.  I was interested in the people who brought take out containers and proceeded to fill them up before the buffet line was torn down.  Fun times.

Good times were had by all, including Jill, who sweet talked the DJ into playing her request first, Seth, who shared many hilarious moments with Michael, and Thomas, who professed to hating weddings, but then didn't want to leave.  This may have had something to do with the free beer but he eventually decided it best to go with us, as we were returning home after the reception.  The boys and Jim piled in and we headed off.  I stopped to fill the tank at a gas station, and made a face at Seth in the window while I was standing there.  He made a horrified faced not at all unlike Edward Munch's "Scream" at Thomas at the same time,   I hadn't even gotten all the way back in when I realized that either the Bud Light had kicked in, or there was a dead animal in the car.  "Damn, boy," was all Jim could say.  Seth was just gasping for air.  Now, you know it's bad if I can smell it, because I can't smell anything -- and this was just awful.  I couldn't get the windows down fast enough.  "Damn boy, next time, stay away from the Bud.  Coors isn't nearly that bad," I said.  All he could say was that it came straight from Satan's Butthole, which Seth pointed out meant that Thomas was Satan, and that I had given birth to Satan.

That boy is just full of philosophical thoughts.

Riding In The Car With Boys Eve

We're having a slumber party, of sorts, tonight.  The boys, Jim and I are heading south tomorrow to go to a wedding for one of their friends who they have known since they were little.  It's the third wedding Jill's in since the beginning of August.  She has one more to go in two weeks and thank God, that'll be done -- they are all out of state weddings, so she's had to do a lot of travelling.  On the flip side, we've gotten to see her a lot, which is pretty great.  But yeah, it's expensive.  Such is the price of being popular.

So I told the boys to come over tonight and sleep here so we wouldn't have to pick them up in the morning.  As in, we'd have to go to two locations, and the odds of them being up and ready to go when we get there to pick them up would be nil.  So here they are.  I'm mentally preparing myself for yet another day of fun conversations from the back seat.  I'm thinking it may not happen, because they are both planning to be studying the whole way down to Evansville, but I'm sure we'll get a few in.

Like tonight, for example.  Seth was talking about his posse of friends at Butler.  He was talking specifically about his freshman year, saying "yeah, now THAT was a group.  We had our token gay guy...yada yada......"  "Wait a minute, I said, is he GAY?" "No," Seth said, "but he IS diabetic."  Whut.

After we got home -- we'd taken a quick trip to Walmart to get Seth some dress shoes because "I could only find one, it was smashed, and it was brown" (don't ask), the boys settled in to some geekery in the family room.  I was taking my bedtime drugs and the puppies were yipping VERY annoyingly.  Thomas said "hey Mom, can I Old Yeller these dogs or something, cause they are driving me nuts."  I told him to ignore them and that hopefully they would shut up (full disclosure:  probably not).  Seth piped in with "yeah, that's what they taught us in my psychology class.  If you want a baby or a dog to shut up, just ignore it."

This has me concerned on a number of levels.  Will the dogs be alive in the morning? What is all the tuition money buying me at Butler?  Should I be concerned for my future grandchildren?

So many questions.  So few answers.

End Times

Well, we rolled down to E-town last weekend for the bratty gurl's graduation.  Hard to believe that she is at that stage in life, but it's a wonderful thing, and there is no prouder mother on the planet.

And so it was that my boo and I, along with The Heir, The Spare, and my Greenfield son did a roadtrip of three and a half hours there, and then back again, with a lunch, cupcakes, and a graduation in between.  I've said it before -- travelling with these boys is hilarious, and this was no exception, with the exception of road construction.  We got stuck in a gridlock before we even made it out of the city, and then again before Terre Haute, but somehow we still made it here in time for our lunch reservations.  It's the in between that was typically hilarious.

Getting three young men up and ready and dressed in something appropriate for the occasion was going to be a huge endeavor, or so I thought.  When we arrived to pick them up, however, all three were up, semi-dressed, and there was even a breakfast of scrambled eggs and pancakes on the stove.  Hey, I think I must've done something right raising these boys.

When we got in the car, there was a long discussion about how tired they all were, given their late bedtime, and getting up earlier than usual.  Thomas said he'd gone to bed early, and gotten up early.  Chris mentioned that although he'd been to bed at his normal 2am, he hadn't gotten up till 9, and he usually gets up at 6, so he actually got more sleep than usual.  This led to a discussion about when one makes up lost sleep.  Seth said "I used to make up my sleep in trig class.  Did the worksheets and then went to sleep.  And I still got an A in the class."

I could've gone my whole life without knowing that. Oye vay.

Thomas has a love of the New York Times crossword puzzles, and typically spends his passenger time in the car working on them.  He and the other two try to get the answers themselves, but if they get stuck, they toss it up to the front seat.  Here is a small sample:

Thomas:  "Mom, who's 'singer Lena'?  Five letters."
Me:  "Horne."
Thomas (with a very curious tone):  "Whore?"
Me:  "Horne."
Thomas:  "It's five letters."
Jim:  "H-O-R-N."
Me:  "E.  There's an E on the end."
Jim:  "Yeah.  H-O-R-N-E.  Horny."
Thomas: "OH!  Got it."

Oye and vay.

Later, I randomly heard the phrase,  "How in the hell  is that not Santa,"  which sounds pretty darned weird until you put together that they are talking about a crossword puzzle.  The clue "Xmas visitor", had six letters and the third one was an E.  I don't think they ever figured it out.  Let me know if you do.

The most odd one to me was the clue "nerd."  The answer was a five letter word, second letter E.  And the three nerds in the back seat never did figure out what it was.  Go figure.

And lastly:
Thomas:  "Do possums climb trees?"
Seth:  "Are you serious?"

The day has come with Seth has more sense than his brother.  End times, I tell you.  End times.