The Answer Is Black and White

Elder Son is studying Visual Arts in college. His semester began yesterday. We had this exchange...

Me: What class did you have today?
He: Lighting

Today was his second day of the semester. We had this exchange...

Me: What class did you have today?
He: (something I didn't quite hear but almost thought I did)
Me: Did you say Darkening?
He: No, "Marketing".
Me: Oh! Well, yesterday was Lighting, so hey, today you could have had Darkening.

He actually laughed at that one.

#SorryNotSorry

Family game night.

Elder Son:  I'd like to play either Uno or Sorry!

Me:  I'd like to play SorryNotSorry.

Elder Son:  That's pretty much what the game *is*, isn't it?

Me:  It was a hashtag before there were hashtags.

Campus Hijinks with Younger Son

Younger Son and I are students at the same university. No, we do not commute together. No, we do not stop and chat on campus.  We learned early that a) he does not want to look like he needs to hang out with his mother, and b) I do not want to look *like* someone's mother.

So, we just don't.

We do cross paths once in a great while.  Usually, we make eye contact, Younger Son looks briefly horrified, and we move along without any other acknowledgement.

I asked him how much it bothers him that I'm at the same school as he is.  He said it doesn't bother him at all, said he forgets I'm there until he sees me.
Same for me.

One day as I crossed campus, I received a text just as I turned toward the library.  The text said, "Mwah-ha-ha."
And out of the corner of my eye, I saw Younger Son walking past.  He had been following me the entire way.

Another time, I was making my way from the parking lot to class when I saw Younger Son traveling perpendicular to me.  I quickly assessed that at our current speeds, we'd not only cross paths, but also likely bump into each other physically.
I pulled out my phone and texted, "On your right."
Neither of us broke stride as I watched him check his phone. He glanced up, and went back to his phone and sent, "Thanks."
He sped up, I slowed down, crisis averted.

Today after class, I spied him on a bench wearing earbuds and watching something on his phone. He was completely emersed in his little screen.
"I could totally sit next to him, and he wouldn't know it was me until it was too late," I thought to myself.
I got halfway to him, but turned around. While the action would be funny, it would break our unspoken rules of engagement. Eye contact, okay; direct contact, not okay.
Texting a message, okay; speaking a message, not okay.
I suddenly realized that we have somehow created a weird hybrid game of hide and seek and tag.
So, rather than take a seat next to my son, I took the longer route up a hill behind the bench.
I texted, "Smooch," then "Behind you." And never looked back.
His reply was, "Ugh."

:-)

An AckThbbbt Labor Day

How awesome is it that The Husband and Elder Son are both working today?
It is super awesome!

Why?

Both of them are headed toward the same Labor Day event to cover it for their separate media companies.
The Husband is recording it from behind a microphone for radio.
Elder Son is recording it from behind a video camera for television.

How cool it that?
THAT is totally freaking cool, is what that is.

Drug Test

As a prerequisite to starting his new job, Elder Son needed to pass a drug test.

Me: How'd it go?
He: I passed. I'm qualified to do drugs now.

The One with the Haircut, Part Two

Elder Son got the job!
He'll be shooting and editing video of community events for the local public access cable television station.

Since videography is his hobby and passion (see this post, and this post, and this post), and since he is studying Visual Arts in college, this is the most perfect place for him to land.

Meanwhile, Younger Son is putting in overtime at his part-time job as a sandwich artist and has been offered a promotion because he is more dependable than most of his peers.  He's earned enough money just this summer to pay for his fall semester.

Life is good, my friends.
Life is very good.

The One with the Haircut *updated*

"I'm getting a haircut tomorrow."

^This^ is Elder Son's way of breaking good news to me.
Because after he tells me he's planning to get a haircut, I'm supposed to ask why.

"Why are you getting your hair cut?"
"So I look good for my JOB INTERVIEW."

Monday had been a super good day for Elder Son.
After some fits and starts with his college education, he took and passed a couple of important tests Monday afternoon.  He is go for launch as a full-time student this fall.
But what's most notable about this day was that he had arranged it all on his own.  He knew what requirements he needed to fulfill, he made all the phone calls, and he just did it all without any help from his parents who kinda were clueless about his plans and needs.  He had it all under control.
And he excelled beyond his own expectations.

He savored telling The Husband and me about his success. He drew it out, feeding us one small tidbit of the good news at a time.
A storyteller, he is.
(I wonder where he gets it.)

And after all of ^that^, he tells me he's getting a haircut.
Because he has a job interview.
At a place that does video production.
Which is his vocational dream job.

His interview is today.
And if I've timed this post correctly (and if it actually publishes), he is on his way there now with a spiffy new haircut.

Wish him good thoughts.
He's had some pretty disjointed years since high school (who of us hasn't?) and he really needs to find a path that is going in the direction he wants to go.

Monday had been a super good day.

***Update: Wednesday evening***

The interview went well.
Elder Son reports that if he doesn't get the job, it's NOT because he failed the interview. Because he nailed that sucker.

For instance, the two people who interviewed him made the connection between his name and The Husband and me.  The Husband and I are well-known because of our radio history in this area.  There are few other people in this area with the same last name.
"So," one interviewer said to Elder Son, "you're part of the illustrious Ack!Thbbbt! family!"
Elder Son replied, "Thanks for setting the bar even higher."
He managed to display acknowledgement and modesty in one fell swoop.  Man, I love that kid.

He had also signed up for more fall classes after his Monday tests.

Life is good, my friends.
Life is good.

"Get Your Motor Running" - Steppenwolf

Elder Son has a special way of holding and petting the cat that consistently makes the cat so happy you can hear him purr from across the room.

Yesterday morning, Elder Son walked into the kitchen with the cat tucked comfortably in one arm.  He waited for me to acknowledge his presence. When I did, Elder Son silently mimed the act of pulling a motor cord on the cat, and the cat started purring.

It. Was. Brilliant.

Productivity

The Husband and Elder Son have spent most of the day working on cars and getting ready for the work/school week ahead.
They have just finished their projects, and Elder Son is heading to his laptop to play on-line games with friends.

Me:  You got a lot done today.
He:  Yeah.  That's about to change.   ::wink::

Putting Things Back Where You Found Them

Elder and Younger Sons have more or less moved into the basement rec room (formerly known as the Mother-in-Law's apartment).  They spend more time there than in their own rooms; they sometimes sleep down there, entertain friends there, eat, do homework, and probably do stuff I don't want to know about.

Occasionally, Younger Son will change into his work clothes down there quickly before racing out the door. On his return, he'll change back into the "civilian" clothes he had left on the floor.
For most of the past week, Younger Son has left the same two sets of clothes on the floor with no sign of moving either set to his room.

Today, I am doing laundry. Younger Son is at work; his civilian clothes are on the floor downstairs.

I'm gonna wash his clothes.  But instead of putting them in his room with the rest of his clean clean laundry, I'm going to place the folded items carefully on the floor exactly where I'd found them.

:-)

Funny Boy

I had just finished telling an amusing story when, instead of *being* amused, Elder Son began correcting my story's facts.

I interrupted.  "It only matters that it's funny.  It doesn't have to be accurate."

He replied, "And in your case, it doesn't have to be funny, either."

Wow.
I gave him a high five for that one.
In our house, insults are rewarded... as long as they're funny.

"Will Work for Food"

The Husband has begun remodeling one of our bathrooms, and he knows he will need help removing the tub.  He would like to ask our boys if two of their friends would be willing to assist. While we enjoyed dinner together, The Husband proposed this possibility to our children to see if they think the two friends will be receptive to the idea.
"I think with the two of you and the two of them helping, it should only take a couple hours," The Husband explained.  "I'd buy them pizza..."
"They'll do it!!"

You see, the two friends have recently moved into their first apartment and have been learning how to buy their own food for the first time.
Younger Son told us, "Yeah, one of them was licking last bits of pizza off the pizza cutter last night."  Younger Son slowly mimed licking a utensil and spoke in his friend's sad voice, "We have to pay for our own wi-fi."

***

I think these two friends living on their own is the best real-life learning opportunity my kids have had in a long time.
It's like The Sims... only real.

Snow. In Wisconsin

The Husband warns the boys that the driveway and sidewalk need to be shoveled tonight.

"It'll take about half an hour with the three of us working on it," he says.
"I'll come out and help, too," I says.
"Okay," he says.  And he says to the boys, "It'll take about 40 minutes then with the four of us."
After I stop laughing, I says, "It takes longer because one of you has to carry your mother's shovel.  You know, like when we play Super Mario Brothers on the Wii, and one of you has to carry my character."

The boys just nod.

Stacked

I wanna know why the same males who can arrange different sized and shaped LEGOs to build elaborate brick creations cannot figure out how to stack nesting Tupperware in the cupboard.

Why?

Bug + Shoe = Funny

Me:  Elder Son, I'm a girl.  Can you come kill a bug for me?
He:  Sure.

Moments later he arrives carrying a shoe.
He:  Where is it?
Me:  ::points over there::
He:  Wow, it's a big one.

After a couple thuds of the shoe, he is dumping the carcass into the trash bin.
Me:  Thank you.  I could have done it if I had to, I just didn't want to.
He:  You notice I used Younger Son's shoe.

Me:  ::falls on floor laughing::

Kind of

Sitting down to dinner.
We are serving our meal with the food in the middle of the table still in the pots it was cooked in.
Younger Son lifts a lid to start serving himself, but Elder Son reaches for the serving spoon first and dishes food onto his own plate. 

Younger Son stands there stunned for a moment, then says, "I guess I'm being kind."
I ask, "Kind of what?"
"Kind of stupid, apparently."

"Do you need this?"

Younger Son is gathering his things to go to school.

Me:  Do you need these papers?
He:  Yes.
Me:  Do you need this book?
He:  No.
Me:  Do you need that music folder?
He:  Yes.
Me:  Do you need... a hug?
He:  No.  But I'll take one anyway.

And he did.

Darnit.
Now I think I'm gonna miss him, too, when he moves out.

Super, man!

Elder Son is delighted with the Superman t-shirt he received for his birthday.

He:  I'm wondering what kind of pants would look good with this.
Me:  Tights.

Studies (a.k.a. Like a Moth to the Flame)

Earlier this week I had spent several hours at a local radio station learning a few things so that I (in addition to my full time job outside of radio) can be their emergency fill-in DJ.

::pauses to answer the question that is twisting up your face::

I know.  I know.
"Roses, you whined and cried and screamed about how you HATED, just hated, your crappy radio job.  And now, not even six full months after scratching and clawing your way out of it, you're training to get back into radio?  What gives?"

My friend, if you ever get to know a "radio person" (and you have, because you know me), you will learn that you can take a gal out of radio, but you will never take radio out of a gal.  No matter what I do for a living, I am a radio person.  Through and through.  Always and forever.  No lie.
This means that no matter how bad we hated, just hated, our last radio job, we cannot turn down the offer of another one.  Especially if we didn't go looking for it.  Especially if a station says, "OMG!  You're available?  WE WANT YOU!"  (Which is exactly what happened to me.)

The same way a moth will fly into an open flame and certain death, a radio person will return to radio if the opportunity presents itself.
Like a moth to the flame.

Can I get a radio brother or sister to testify?

::gets back to funny::

So, now I am sitting at the kitchen table rewriting my notes as Elder Son sits across from me studying for exams.  Every once in a while he stops what he is doing to watch me.
"I'm studying, too," I tell him.  "I had a three hour class today."
He considers my history, and he states, "Yeah, but it's all review, right?"

I love that kid.

Powered by...

I am washing dishes when Elder Son, like so many times before, comes up behind me and gives me a hug.
"What's that for?" I ask him.
"For doing the dishes and stuff," he replies.
"Y'know, I don't mind doing dishes so much because when I do, all three of you guys give me hugs.  When you and Younger Son move out, I'm gonna have to get a dishwasher because there won't be enough of you around to make washing the dishes worth the effort anymore."
Elder Son contemplates this statement for a moment, and then says, "Dishwasher: powered by electricity.  Mother: powered by love."

I am beginning to think I just might miss him when he moves out.