Need a bit of direction in your life? Get yourself a teenage daughter. Need driving instruction? You need a teenage daughter. Need fashion advice? Get yourself a teenage daughter. Want to be put in your place? Get yo’self a teenage daughter.
When Meredith was an infant, I worked in clinical research. I drove into the medical center three days per week and worked from home (kept her with me) for two. On the days I was in my office on Fannin, my Mom kept Meredith. As Meredith got older, she got sassier. My Mom would often warn, “paybacks are Hell and Meredith is clearly your payback”. Man, did she ever hit the nail on the head…
If you have a child that does any kind of extracurricular activity, you know how long tournaments/meets/competitions can last. On occasion, I package boxes of candy (think sugary stuff) that the girls can quickly consume between games to give them a boost of energy. This past Saturday, I brought Meredith’s club volleyball team little Easter boxes filled with Spring themed treats. When I attempted to hand them out between games, Meredith handed her box back to me and mouthed, “Go. Away.”. I guess, at least, her teammates took theirs and some even said “thank you!”. And, don’t worry. I showed her. I ate the fucking candy myself. Bitch. After the tournament, we stopped for linner (you know? late lunch, early dinner). In the process of drinking water to re-hydrate after a long day of providing direction to the incompetent refs (see prior entry: we’ve got spirit, y’all) and yelling moral support to my actual kid plus my other seven kids – err – Meredith’s teammates, said water went “down the wrong way”. <Enter choking cough>. My initial reaction was to cover my cough with my hand because, y’all, that’s what we were trained to do as kids. And, for fuck’s sake, old habits are hard to break! I shit you not – Meredith looks at me and says, “oh my god, Karen, why did you cough into your hand?”. I tried to stop. I honestly attempted to hold it in which made it worse. My face lit up red and I was literally crying. I picked up my napkin and tried to cough quietly into it. I mean, seriously; I was dying right in front of my own kid. Meredith was so caring and offered, “Karen, oh my god, STOP! People are looking!”. At no point did she (or Coty, for that matter) ask if I was OK. Y’all. I can’t even. Like, call the mortician because this is how and where I die.
A couple of nights ago, Meredith drove Coty and me to dinner (she needs to finish recording hours to earn her TDL). With her at the wheel and me in the passenger seat means that I have full control to DJ, right? Apparently not; read on. I tuned into Sirius XM 32 just as the harmonica twang started in U2’s “Trip Through Your Wires” – a song that made many U2 fans contemplate learning how to play harmonica, and many more that did. Meredith actually had the audacity to say, “yeahhh…I’m gonna need you to change this”. I said, “uh, no. I happen to like this song. A lot. One of my favs from this album”. She then adds, “well, the intro sounds dumb”. So, I stoop to her level and say, “yeah, you’re dumb”. You know what? That little shit took her hand right off the wheel to change the station. “Well, you can either change it or I’m gonna drive with one hand on the wheel so I can change it myself!”. Um, excuse me. What? Brat, of course, got her way. She can dis U2 all she wants but they’ll always be the first concert she attended. In utero, of course, but still. #whoneedslullabies #youhadu2sungtoyou #youonlyhaverhythmbecauseofme #yourewelcome
Back in February, Meredith and were meant to #goredforwomen as a support project through National Charity League, #nclwearsred. Moms and their daughters were to wear red, take a photo together, and upload the photo to the NCL page. Easy enough. We were nearing the deadline so I ran up to Meredith’s closet one day while she was at school with the intent of having a red shirt ready to go for her coming home. Y’all. When I say she owns grey, black, white, blue, and the occasional maroon (thanks to Mallory and A&M) I am not exaggerating! I dug through her drawers and found an old sweater from the fourth grade that was red. Good thing it was a head shot because the damn thing barely covered her belly button. But, yeah… let’s judge Mom’s cabi clothes. <face plant> At least *I* have red in my closet.
A couple of weeks ago, I tried on some new hoop earrings that I got as a birthday gift. Now, I typically wear dangly earrings because my “Karen hair style” is short. I showed them to Meredith and asked if she thought they were too big. Her response, “da bigger the hoops, da bigger the ho”. Y’all. Apparently, this is something they say at her school. What the actual fuck?
I remember reading a parenting book back way back when the girls were in elementary school. It suggested that as parents, we should ask leading questions – not ones that could be answered with a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’. So, instead of asking, “did you have a good day today?” you should prompt “tell me something fun you learned in science today”. Well, let me tell you, I’ve tried that shit with Meredith and it don’t work. It’s better to ask, “how was your day?” and be satisfied with the under-her-breath, grunt response of “Fine.” than to ask, “did you learn any new español today?” and be smacked with, “okay, quiz kitty, enough with the interrogation” Then, she likes to remind me, “you’re white; stop enunciating Spanish words like you’re from Mexico”. And, might I add: those type of responses were never addressed in the parenting books. So, there’s that.
People that drive slow irritate me. I *may* have a tendency to yell things like, “move your ass to the right lane; left lane is for passing, fuck face”. When that happens, I can always depend on Meredith to remind me that they can’t hear me. People that drive around in a car by themselves with a mask on make me laugh. I always point them out. When I see a masked person walking alone outside you can bet I’m going to comment, “fresh air’s gonna getcha!” In both instances, I can always count on Meredith to say shit like, “why do you care, Karen?”. Let them live their life”. Oh, Meredith. I never said I cared. I said they were idiots. Cross over with me and let us poke fun at them together. The dark side is where you belong, my sweet sister in sarcasm. <sigh> Where did I go wrong? Maybe they should’ve put that in the parenting book? I know for a fact it wasn’t in there!
As the girls got older, they obvi grew taller. Mallory passed me years ago and Meredith is determined to do the same. Used to, when they’d leave out the back door, Mals would lean forward to let me kiss her on the top of her head and I’d tell her that I loved her, to be careful, and to have a good day. Meredith, on the other hand, would refuse my kiss – because she didn’t want “my lipstick in her hair”. She’d huff at me as I wished her well and she’d walk out the door mumbling “uh, huh”. She loves me. I just know she does.
This weekend, Meredith’s club volleyball team has a national qualifier in Kansas City and Mallory has parent weekend at Texas A&M in College Station. Unfortunately, for the girls, that means one of them gets stuck with Karen. The lucky winner (or should I say: the one that goes home with the parting gift?) is Meredith. Y’all be thinking of her and sending her some positive vibes. Hell, while you’re at it, think of me, too! I’m gonna need all the positive vibes I can get to survive! #havetheystartedservingalcoholonswaagain #imnotforeveryoneyall