I know that something has happened to Sunday evenings.
As in, I no longer seem to be able to work up any motivation whatsoever to actually string words into sentences, and sentences into paragraphs, in order to create an actual blog post on Sunday nights any longer. In other words, y’all have been spared from my ramblings on the Sabbath. And the honest truth is this: I didn’t even have anything interesting to report from this weekend, because the absolute highlight was when Hubs and I played a rousing round of Listen And Name That Tune to old ’80s songs.
We are so old.
We were doing everything in our power to actually stay awake on Friday night, because the boy has what is commonly referred to as a SOCIAL LIFE, and he was out with an enormous pack of friends. They were hanging out at a coffee shop, laughing their heads off and having zero-point-zero concern that perhaps the evening was getting a touch late, and WHOSE PARENTS HAVE A PRESCHOOLER WHO GETS UP AT 5 AM ON SATURDAY MORNINGS?
I have become my mother, circa 1988. I can remember arguing with her over and over and O-VAH about how so-and-so’s mother let HER stay out until 3:00 in the morning. And then I listened to my mother inform me that she wasn’t so-and-so’s mother. And then I insisted that she could just GO TO BED, ALREADY! I’LL JUST SLIP QUIETLY IN THE FRONT DOOR WHEN I GET HOME, SO I WON’T WAKE YOU! And then my mother said things like, “I hope you have a rotten child like you when you’re in your forties, who wants to stay out all night, too.”
And so her prophecy has happened.
Which is exactly why Hubs and I were trying to stay awake on Friday night. Apparently there’s this little thing known as A MAMA CAN’T ACTUALLY FALL ASLEEP UNTIL ALL HER PEEPS ARE SAFE AND SOUND AND HOME.
I never knew that in 1988.
But I know it in 2016, so I’d like some credit added to my account, please.
Hubs turned Pandora on and hollered out, “Name this tune!”
I guessed Cinderella. And then I guessed Ratt. And then I guessed Dokken. And then I guessed Twisted Sister. And then Hubs told me, “You’re horrid at this game! It was Motley Crue!”
Yes. Motley Crue. As in, I could SING the song; I just couldn’t name the band who SANG it. I blame early dementia for my troubles.
Hubs continued to throw out the introductory notes to song after song after song, and I continued to fail them all, until Def Leppard popped up, and then HANG ONTO YOUR PYROMANIA CONCERT T-SHIRTS, Y’ALL! I was on fire!
After that, I stole the iPad and shuffled through old songs from our high school days for Hubs.
He guessed Ratt. Correct.
He guessed Motley Crue. Yes.
He guessed Night Ranger. Right.
He guessed Van Halen. Bingo.
He guessed AC/DC. Another gold star.
And that’s when I decided to give up on what he’d actually listened to in his glory days by throwing out REO Speedwagon, Chicago and Richard Marx. He failed them all, and then he announced, “This is ridiculous! Nobody listened to this stuff! Who the heck is REO Speedwagon, anyway? WHO IS THAT?!”
Honestly, I don’t know how we even ended up together, especially when Hubs is controlling the Pandora box and says, “If you can’t guess this song by the guitar, then you’re a musical loser.”
Clearly, we speak words of love at all times in our home.
Eventually, the boy was safe and sound, after calling me and asking, “So… I might just ride home with Eli and spend the night at his house, if that’s okay.” And then I was so happy that we’d waited until the last second to make those slumber party arrangements, because I could have been asleep for three hours by then! But bless them; Hubs and I adore Eli, and we gave our blessings.
On Saturday morning, when Thing 2 was up at 5:45, because HE SLEPT IN, Hubs and I hauled out the iPad and the Pandora. Thing 2 is nothing short of a musical genius, when it comes to listening to the radio. He listens to K-LOVE, because that’s what I listen to in the Suburban. Since he’s strapped down tightly in his car seat behind me, he can’t reach the radio dial to change stations, so he gets his daily dose of Christian praise music every day.
Hubs and I played those contemporary Christian songs for him, and OUR SON NAILED THEM ALL, WITHIN FIVE NOTES. I kid you not.
Matthew West. Got him!
TobyMac. Light up the winner sign!
Casting Crowns. He got it right!
Jeremy Camp. Winner, winner, chicken dinner!
And the list went on and on. Thing 2 missed one song out of twenty.
I think I got one song out of twenty right. He has all of my applause.
And THAT, y’all, was the absolute highlight of our weekend, because the rest of it involved rain, more rain, some wind, laundry, cleaning up a messy kitchen, and taking the entire family to Walmart for the enormous, weekly haul.
Well, today was pretty exciting…
… for the boy.
The high school golf team had a tournament here in Small Town, USA, and the boy took second place. He’s getting pretty good at smacking those little white golf balls all over the place, and his Mama and Daddy are kind of proud of him…
… and his 2nd place medal.
Then… after his tournament was all wrapped up for the day, he got to finish all the paperwork necessary to…
(DRUM ROLL, PLEASE!!!!!)
… buy his very first car!!!!
Oh, yes! My little boy, who still looks like THIS in my mind…
… used some money that he’s saved up over the years, and then he went to the bank and applied for a loan. And the bank actually gave him some money! He worked it all out, so that his monthly payments are quite low. Hubs and I cosigned for him, and now he’s building himself some credit at the tender age of fifteen. He already has a job lined up, which he starts later this month, and suddenly Hubs and I have this MAN CHILD WITH A CAR AND A JOB AND A LOAN living in our house and eating out of our pantry.
My heart aches for that little boy he used to be… I would love the chance to hold HIM one more time on my lap and rock him to sleep as a four-year-old… but we’re pretty stinking impressed with the big teenage boy that he’s become.
And he’s pretty stinking impressed with his new car, even though he doesn’t turn sixteen until August.
Plus… STICK SHIFT. So guess what Hubs and I are going to be doing this week? Yes… teaching him how to shift from first to second and not pop the clutch.
I believe this is when I’ll need a heavy dose of Biblical patience.
That’s what tomorrow’s for.
We love that big kid of ours, and we couldn’t be happier for him right now.