Yes. We bought an RV.
I will be in a big, floppy hat most every weekend from now on.
Keith will be in his mandals more than I ever in my life imagined I’d tolerate.
And you’re sick of hearing about the RV and how Keith isn’t too hip on the idea of me plucking down pink flamingo yard stakes at a camp site or throwing pink flamingo string lights all over it by now because I’ve been yammering about it on Facebook.
Let’s see…whaaaaat else can I burden you with?
Oh, right. That RV isn’t just going to be used for camping.
Nope. I’m gonna be meeting my man out there in the driveway in it.
Uh, huh. Oh, yeah.
We’ve already been out there in it. For a while. Well, not THAT long…but yeah, it was rocking.
Let me back up.
Cayla, that hormonal teenager of ours, came in and politely said these words:
“Oh, if y’all don’t care, Eric is going to come over and watch a movie…we’re gonna do the Batman Trilogy!!”
(First off…who the hell is this Eric? And just what time will this Eric be here? And just when does this so-called Eric plan on leaving?)
(And I’m not the smartest cookie out there but I do believe ‘trilogy’ is some fancy schmancy word that’s probably Greek or Canadian or Roman for something ‘three-ish’ and I’ve been to enough movies in my lifetime to know that most are about 2.5 hours long and even though I suck beyond sucking at math, I do know 2.5 hours times 3 movies equals quite a bit of make-out time.)
(That whole conversation went on in my head with me while I was standing at the kitchen sink trying not to let my pulsing artery in my neck jut out and blow.)
What does Keith say?
“Oh, that sounds fine baby…it’s ok with me.”
WHAT THE WHATTING WHAT?
It’s ok with him?
About 20 minutes later, he was out scrounging around doing some something out by the RV and I ran through the yard and driveway like a deer in rut.
(Rut = heat = horny for those of you non-southerners.)
I caught him around back and into the RV we went.
(Oh, yes we did.)
Me: “Uh, no sir. THIS is why God didn’t make me a mother with a kid shooting out my lady parts and He just gave me yours at the teen years. I can’t handle it!! No way in HAY-ELL is some dude who goes by the name of Eric coming to THIS house to watch 78 hours of movies. No way, no how.”
Keith: “What exactly are you talking about now? And what’s wrong with the name Eric? I know him. Great kid and great family. If she was to start dating, that is exactly the young man I’d be happy to see her date.”
Me: “I’m sorry, but, uh…no. I don’t care who he is or how great his face is or how fantastic his stupid family is. No horny 17-year old boy is coming in THIS house to make out on that couch with my girl.”
Keith: “Our girl.”
Me: “Whatever. You know what I mean. And really? I’m all fine with the movie-watching, ONE movie-watching, but who in the sweet graces of holy Mother Teresa watches 3 movies in one sitting? Who does that? Horny teenaged boys, that’s who! I mean, come on, dude. I know you know how dumb I am in math, but if he’s here at 8:00 at the latest…HE WON’T BE OUT UNTIL 2:00 a.m. AND THAT CRAP AIN’T HAPPENING.”
(My face was so scrunched, my nose was up in my hairline. Not kidding.)
(Needless to say, Keith never heard the part about the 3 movies. Nope, just the part about that sweet, heavenly, never-done-anything-wrong-because-he’s-from-the-most-perfectly-perfect family, Eric coming over. He was so thrilled that if Cayla was kinda dating, it might be Eric. He heard nothing else.)
(Good thing I’m around. Damn it.)
Keith: “Didn’t you have friends over to watch movies when you were her age?”
Me: “Uh, friends? Yes. Dudes? Well, I DID if I was gonna be making out with them on the couch at midnight while my folks were asleep. And you know my daddy NEVER let some dude come over and stay past 11:00 pm! Don’t be so friggin’ naïve. ALL boys are big, giant hornballs at 17!!”
(And I know there is probably one or so 17-year old out there in the world, that isn’t. That’s fine. But unless he’s this Lord and Savior Eric who thinks he’s gonna be necking with my daughter, I don’t wanna hear about him.)
We promptly left the RV.
(I sure hope you’re doing a lot of neck jutting and head bobbing and face scrunching when you’re picturing me in your mind saying all this because even if you are, you’re not doing it enough. THAT’S why the RV was rocking.)
He very fatherly told her that Mr.-Prince-of-all-Things-Princely-Eric could come over, but he needed to be headed home after the first movie or at least by 10:00….they could do 2-3 movies a week, but not 2-3 movies in one night.
She was fine with that and so was I.
(Now, I don’t have to stay up so late walking in and out of the kitchen, flipping the kitchen light on and off, going to the bathroom, checking again to see if the doors are locked, peering around the corner and acting like I’m looking for something in the dark…stuff like that.)
She had a job interview the other day and guess what?
She got it.
AND NOW SHE’S WORKING TOO LATE FOR MR.-FOREVER-WONDERFUL-PERFECT-LIFE-AND-FACE-ERIC TO COME OVER.
I’m so happy for her!
She really wanted this job and this is just going to be a great thing for her.
I sure hope it doesn’t cut into her social life though. Too bad the movie date is off.
And, I’m sure this Eric is a nice young man. Maybe I’ll get to meet him someday.