The Roaring Twenties

Mommy blogs make me laugh, but not in the way they intend to.    They discuss their child rearing problems like feeding issues, and kids who say hilarious things unexpectedly and embarrass them (Oh My!), and complain about their kids who play too many video games.   Then there are actual message boards where other mothers contribute and try to offer solutions and sympathy.  Why??? These aren’t problems!  These are child’s play – pun intended.

And then people talk about the teenage years, like once you get through those, you’re safe.  As if.  Talk to me when your kids are in their twenties.   Case in point, this past weekend when the youngest (20) came home from university for a good old fashioned rural “Kegger”.  Sounds harmless enough.  But seriously, it did – she’s the good one.  I’ve never had to even once issue an Amber alert for her, and go hunting around town on a Sunday morning to find/collect her, dehydrated and disheveled and sporting one shoe like I routinely did with her siblings during their later teen years.  (Those recovery operations were always made worse by witnessing the local perfect little Christian family of my kid’s classmates, smiling wholesomely and holding hands as they skipped off to church.)

She really was the good one, and has often in the past stood shoulder to shoulder with me with arms folded, shaking her head in disapproval while we would prepare our Sunday brunch accompanied by moans and retching sounds coming from a sibling upstairs.  “I’m never going to drink” she would announce with conviction.  I couldn’t have been prouder.

So … got a text from her on Friday night at 10:30pm from the Kegger, saying that she was going to be sleeping at her girlfriend’s.  At 7:21 Saturday morning I got a text that said “ I am anzosurdle. Loste.”  At 7:22am I got one that said “I am do unreaiabe no soo0oo0oooooo. Points. On meye.”

Well, you can imagine my hysteria.   These were clearly the gibberish rantings of someone who not only had pulled an all-nighter, but had alcohol poisoning AND/OR had been roofied, and it was now up to me to save her.   Since the first text mentioned “Loste” – I knew that we were dealing with disorientation.  It brought to mind that Dateline show I saw, where the two teenagers used Meth and then abandoned their car and took off their coats and froze to death.  THERE WAS NO TIME TO WASTE! The second text included that word that kind of looked like “unreliable”, and then that other word that had the “s” with so many “o”s …. so naturally I understood that she was trying to say that she was sorry she was unreliable.  Broke my heart – so like her to be concerned about me.

I leapt into action.  Tried phoning her cell phone, went to voicemail every time.  Obviously she was busy trying to phone 911 – or worse, there were captors involved and they had stolen her phone and were using it to make long distance, possibly even international calls!!  Got her dad up – and instructed him to go start scouring the back roads looking for her.  I picked up the phone to call the police and the milk carton people. TIME WAS OF THE ESSENCE.  Meanwhile Dad, sporting severe bedhead was sprinting out to the car, but stopped in his tracks and said “Maybe you should call her friend’s house.”   I knew it was a waste of time – he,  as usual,  wasn’t comprehending the gravity of the situation, but if I’ve learned anything over the past 30 years it’s that sometimes you just have to humour them.  So I dialed her friend’s house and when Cindy  pleasantly answered and I asked knowingly whether my little baby was there,  the answer was ….  “Yes”, then “ Do you want me to wake her?”

My next text, at  8:07am said “Hi mom, my phone fell between the couch cushions, and it sent random letter texts. I’m fine.”

Never mind.   Enjoy the innocent years, Mommy Bloggers, because parenting twenty- somethings is no kids’ game.



Filed under Family, Kids, Thats Life

7 responses to “The Roaring Twenties

  1. Dagmar

    Hysterically funny, especially since I am the “nice Christian” family that can so utterly relate to this. Remind me to tell you the tale of the lost Blackberry in the woods. I can of course not tell the story with the succinct humour you have been gifted with.

    In short – I love it and you should continue to “publish”


  2. Cathy

    Finally you are a published author. Now the whole world will know how funny you are (and what a strange life you have). Keep them coming. We are hanging on your every word. Which makes our lives look kinda sad. PS we all sharing in any royalities you get.


  3. Myrna MacKinnon

    Bravo. You should definetly keep doing this. As I am the aunt of the youngest and good sibling, I know that for you it was just another day. Just to remind you, it dosen’t get any better when they hit the 30’s and 40’s



    I guess I better step up production on that “time freeze” ray gun I’ve been working on. I already have the Nerf Machine gun and protoplasm, but the plutonium is proving a bitch to source since that whole terrorism craze started.

    P.S. This is *fantastic.* I subscribed, so the pressure is on. Go forth – entertain me! From the looks of this post, you certainly will.

    P.P.S. Welcome to the dark side, blogger!


    • Sorry to burst the bubble! And good luck with the time freeze project, we were always threatening our 3 with “I’m going to shrink you down”, but it didn’t work. A couple of them tower over me now. I blame the hormones in the milk, but I’m all about blaming hormones these days.
      Thanks for the kind words, and the kind of scary pressure – I overlooked the subscribe option – I may be a one hit wonder!


  5. Dee Dee

    That bit about sending beer in her son’s school lunch is unbelievable.
    Who could ever make that mistake? And twice!!! What an idiot.
    (BTW I believe it looked just like the cans of rootbeer).
    Great story. You obviously have found your calling.


  6. Dee Dee

    Just realized my comments are on the wrong page/story.
    It was meant to comment on the “Food For Thought” blog.
    I don’t give a “. . . t” I’m a honey badger.


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