I Feel Your Pain, Buford. Jesus, Do I Feel Your Pain.
(Image Courtesy of imdb.com)
Jackie Gleason as Buford T. Justice looks over at his misfit son in the movie Smokey and the Bandit and says, "Remind me to slap your mama when I get home," then pauses, and says, "There's no way, NO WAY that YOU came from MY loins."
Well, Buford, I feel your pain.
Today, as the Irritated Mother has so graciously pointed out, happens to be my birthday. My children have taken it upon themselves to acquire a birthday present for me and to cook me dinner.
Sort of.
The oldest lives with me, is seasonally unemployed, and lives on his laptop laughing at pithy remarks found on textsfromlastnight.com in lieu of, oh, I don't know, job hunting, maybe? He has been helpful in this process.
Just the other night he was texting furiously and then messing with my cable box. This prompted me to growl at him.
"What the fuck are you doing with that?"
"Nothing. Just checking it out is all."
"Well, given I pay for the damn thing, I would like to know why you are messing with it and the wires."
"I am looking at it because of your present, all right?"
This made me feel slightly sheepish for a few nanoseconds.
That was two nights ago.
Last night youngest son started early on the mea culpas about not having my present. It seems they are sold out of the cheap ones, whatever that would be.
Tonight I got a call from my middle son. He forgot he has a hunter safety gun course and will be missing dinner. But he did call to wish me a happy birthday.
Young son called around 5:30. He was to pick up ribs to bring here to cook. He needed to know what kind and how many. I gave him some general guidance. He then informed me he had to have tires put on rims for his car and that this would take a while. He would get here about 6:30.
Now, I know this boy eats, because he shits on a regular basis. I know he also knows that food takes a while to prepare, because I have bumped into him as he stares vacantly and somewhat VAPIDLY at me as I prepare things like Ribs for him.
So the timing of his arrival with ribs that he has known to be called "SLOW COOKED RIBS" in my personal lexicon had me shaking my head a little bit as to his ineptitude. It is also what prompted me to hand my cell phone over to his older brother the next three times he called looking for guidance on what kind of ribs to buy and how many cans of beans to acquire.
Ultimately the boneless pork ribs turned into Rib Eye steaks. I am not sure how that happens. Additionally the present is to be a surround sound system for my television in my temporary living quarters I have dubbed "The Heartbreak Hotel." (I will be here at least through the school calendar for the sake of my daughter so she has an address in the district. With any luck the housing market will improve, relocations will take place all the way around, and I will chew through the last of the restraints. )
But the present is not to be acquired yet. Seems they think I may want one more expensive than what they can afford. I am told over the phone from number three son through number one son that we will look for them on-line tonight.
I am assuming this means I can order it with my credit card and, their being a little light on cash, they can owe me for my birthday present.
So number two son has a prior commitment. Number three son in charge of present and food acquisition needed to take care of his tires and will arrive here with the food around 6:30 pm without a present.
My daughter, watching all of this nonsense, simply asked if she could go play at a friend's house. She probably is looking to be fed.
And me? I am sitting on my sofa playing with my laptop looking at my number one son laughing at textsfromlastnight.com. But he has his end of the dinner covered. The potatoes are peeled and boiling. Now all we need is the steak, and we can have our slow cooked ribs.
Apparently we won't be listening to the Olympics in surround sound, however. Maybe later we can watch Smokey and the Bandit, and I can ask them innocently if any of it rings a bell.
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Comments
And very funny post btw.
xxxxoooo
Bonnie: It is what it is, right MARY?
Aunt Mabel: I am surprised you haven't signed up to get your tubes tied.
Nerd Cred: Yeah, I used to be able to think that way when hearing parental horror stories. But then my own reached their teenaged years.
Gracie: Well. I keep telling myself that.
Any birthday you're not bailing your kid out of jail is a good birthday. Happy Birthday.
Parenting -- the hardest job in the world. And it never ends.
HB R
When I had my kids, I went to my mother one day and apologized. "For what?" she said. "For having been a kid," I said. So just think that some day your sons will have their own kids. That should make you cackle.
:D
Rita: Hand write something? I would not want to see the a) poor penmanship or b) the horrific grammar or c) the spelling mistakes. I would prefer to simply lose my ability to remember.
Bernadette: Even harder when the shared responsibility is adversarial.
Cranky: Time will tell. One of them will go against type.
JC; the show's over in a few hours, but a Sunday dinner will be forthcoming.
Lady: thanks.
Scupper: Only a few more hours left of the fun and frivolity.
I don't know about you and your dad, but with me and my son payback is hell! I know my dad looked at mom suspiciously many times, as if to ascertain if I really came from his loins.
PS Take Lady Miko's advice -- but not in front of the kids, the laughter would be too much in your present condition
I empathize . . . sorry it has such a sting today.
Oh well, I hear potatoes are good too!!!
Happy birthday my friend, I bought you a present too, but I eated it!! Sorry!!
**wanders off** :)
Oh well, I hear potatoes are good too!!!
Happy birthday my friend, I bought you a present too, but I eated it!! Sorry!!
**wanders off** :)
Happy Birthday. We love ya Wooly. My fish would literally die without you.
Nice story telling!
rated
Though the celebration was a bit disorganized, look on the bright side. You have a son who, evidently, will provide you companionship in your reclining years. And ribeye steak is one of those wonderful, beefy pleasures of life, as long as it isn't prepared the same way Alexander Portnoy prepared a slab of liver.
Here's hoping your son has a girlfriend...and best wishes to you and yours...
Tom: My dad was long gone by the time I channeled my inner asshole, although I do remember the interchanges between him and my (much) older brother.
Dorinda: It's far better than last year.
Joan: I am familiar with some of your family. I would imagine the laughter flows from misery loving company.
Tink: I had to finish the potatoes for them. And they were NOT checked BEFORE the rib eyes were cooked, so the $40 worth of rib eyes got to cook longer while warming as we waited for the $3 worth of potatoes to soften.
Kyle: And that is ok, as they will get what you want and present it on time and within budget. On time and within budget. Therein lie the operative words.
Rita: Ah, well mine did the public high school thing and never met a performance measurement to underachieve successfully.
Julie: Your fish can thank my daughter, as she is the one doing the various Facebook gaming as I will not allow her to have her own account at the age of 11. It has many of my high school and college friends wondering if I have lost my mind.
Leepin: Oh man, last Father's Day was the absolute worst. The veritable final nail in the marital coffin.
JD: Yeah, we are not alone, which is why Buford's lament rang so true back in 77 when he uttered it.
" But he has his end of the dinner covered. The potatoes are peeled and boiling. Now all we need is the steak, and we can have our slow cooked ribs."
Thanks for the laugh.
(note the extra exclamation marks to make up for my rudeness)
You remind me a bit of old Buford, Sr. - don't go home, dont' go eat, and don't play with yourself, wouldn't look good on my highway!
Glad you enjoyed your day. Teenagers - only jesus and their mama can love em and it's hard for the mama.
Curling in surround sound...now that would be a thing of beauty.
Imom: I bet you did major in Smokey in the Bandit. Did you have the high hair and the short shorts? The back seats weren't that big in the back of a T-Top Camaro, though, so how did you manage? And yeah, I did enjoy your post. :)
Mamoore: Brother sent an Omaha Steak care package that will be eviscerated during sunday dinner watching the hockey game. 5 Filets wrapped in Bacon plus two left over ribeyes from the birthday dinner cluster screw.