Epilogue….

So, Jordan was my guest blogger tonight. I was really excited because he loves, I mean loves to write. And, he loves to tell family secrets. I had to threaten him if he tried to blog about any skeletons without my approval.

Wonder where he gets that from?

Everything was fine and dandy, he wrote the blog, went upstairs, and the world was good.

Only, about 30 minutes later, he came to do his part of the kitchen cleanup, and I could tell he was upset. There was way too much door slammin’ going on in there. I asked him what was wrong and received back a typical teenage mumble of “nothing.”

Tyler arrived home from a swim meet and I gave him some money so that they could go get ice cream. He asked Jordan at least three times if he wanted to go with them, and Jordan kept half-yelling, “NO, I don’t WANT to go!”

You don’t have to tell Tyler twice, he’s the man with the car keys.

He and Chase got their shoes and headed out the door.

The second that door slammed, Jordan came flying downstairs looking for shoes, wailing, “WAAAIIIT, I’ve changed my mind, I’m GOOIINNNGGG!!!”

Too late. Tyler made some smart remark about needing to ask three times, and although they hadn’t left yet, Jordan walked back in like a puppy with his tail between his legs, and stomped up the stairs.

I called his name, and the “WHAT” that came back was clearly full of choked back tears.

Okay, fine, something was wrong, dammit. I didn’t know if a girl turned him down or what but I was getting to the bottom of my suddenly very PMS-y male child.

I called him downstairs so we could talk.

Sure enough, he walked in just a boo-hooing.

I said, “What in the world is wrong? You were fine an hour ago?”

There was suddenly more water sprouting from his face the a lawn sprinkler in July.

Holy cannolies, how did he go from writing a blog to all these tears?

I asked again, “what in the world is wrong?”

This time, I didn’t get back a “nothing.”

No, this time I got back this:

“My life is awful, just terrible!”

Before I could say a word or ask what doomsday prediction he’d seen in the last 60 minutes, since he’s just written an entire blog post about his life being so ‘dang good,” he said:

“My math grade is no good, Tyler left me here and he keeps grabbing my butt, and these guys keep beating me on Call of Duty 5 and no matter what I do, I CANNOOOOTTTT beaaattttt them!!!! BAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

I sat there and let him wail.

When he took a breath, I said, “Jordan, you are not supposed to be playing video games on a school night.”

“I knnnoowwwww but tthhheeeyyyy (sniff sniff) keeeeppppp beaaatttttinnggg meeeee.”

I said, “Okay, that’s terrible, but I’m next in line if you don’t shut that game off and take a shower, or you and I can hang out all weekend, and you can forget about all those sodas and donuts and Dr Peppers at Payton’s house.”

Wow. Off went that garden hose, just like I’d turned a freakin’ spicket.

Stay tuned.

Tomorrow we may have the prelogue to his life.

And does anyone know if hormone pills are available for 12 year old males?

Sometimes I lie awake at night, and I ask, “Where have I gone wrong?” Then a voice says to me, “This is going to take more than one night.” -Charlie Brown

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