Jenn's Reverie

My son turned 9 this year and guess what he got on his birthday? A new
cousin. He was so excited. He's so grateful for everything. My son is
the best and don't you ever forget it.

So, being that he turned 9, that means he's got what? Four years before
he's a teenager. Now here's the thing, right... I don't like teenagers
aka high school kids. I didn't like them when I was one and I don't like
them now. Man, they are the biggest douchebags on this here planet. I'm
sure they are just as big of douchebags on Pluto and Saturn, too,
however.

Anyhow, the minute my son acts high school, he and I, we're going toe to
toe. I love him more than life itself, but seriously, can I really
endure having a high school kid in my care without my brain popping out
my skull? I think not. And by then he'll be stronger than me so I'll
have to turn up the Ice Mom moniker.

Now don't get me wrong here, I'm not gonna be the uptight mom who
freaks when he brings home a girl for the first time, or freaks when I
find out he had his first swig of alcohol and partied like it was 1999
for the first time. That's all fine and dandy with me. I mean, we all
did it, right? I sure had my fun. Hell, I'm still having my fun. I'm
only 28 for freakin' sake. But, I just can't do the high school thing.
How they think they're so cool and know everything and oh man it's all
about impressing everyone and everything. And they are SO caught up in
cliques. It's all cliché, no?

I got along with everyone when I was in school, but I didn't like them.
The kids I did hangout with went to a different high school and when we
did hangout it was during non-school hours so the impressing and all
that jazz had already passed with that part of the day. So it all
worked out in my favor.

The day I transferred out of public school and into an alternative
school, I didn't tell anybody. In order to get in to that school you
had to call everyday just to show that you wanted in. And if you were
still in school they accepted you sooner than those not in school
trying to get in. I had to get a release from all my teachers, too. One
didn't want me to go, but I begged and pleaded and threatened that if
she didn't sign I would tell everyone I learned about my prostitution career
while in her class. The day I had to have them sign I made sure I had
them do it during other periods this way I had less of a chance running
into class mates. Until this day I run into people from school and they
ask me why I dropped out and what I'm doing with my life. I assure them
that I graduated in '97 when I was supposed to, have a, what I consider
decent career and I left that day because 'I didn't like you or what's
her name, that one ghetto girl and that stupid jock guy, either!' Such a
weight off my shoulders everytime. And then I make sure they know that
was all then and how it's so nice to see them all grown up and not
stupid. So far it's went well each time, but I'm waiting for that one
time I get punched in the face and someone says, "That's for hanging
out with nerds, gangsters, jocks and those in between. You fucked up the
rotation back then." Hopefully it's what's her name because then I'll
counter punch verbally saying, "I madeout with your stupid crush back
then, too!"

Anyhow, I hope and pray to God and Allah and Buddah that my son is one
of the high school kids I can tolerate, because I really don't wanna
have to up the Ice Mom and take him out with a Guillottine.