Oh, Those Crazy Kids

I got an email on Monday afternoon informing me that my youngest child, the freshman, had dozed off during Math class. The teacher noted it was to be expected following the Super Bowl, but I guess he wanted to let me know my child decided to catch forty winks in his classroom.

I asked my child about it, like a good parent is supposed to do. He swears he was sitting up straight and succumbed to sleep against his will. I offered to have him tested for narcolepsy, but he suggested it was probably because he didn't have his coffee that morning.

This is true. I know he didn't because my husband questioned why there was so much cold coffee in the pot later that evening. I hadn't gotten around to emptying the pot and rinsing it out. I didn't have much coffee either because I find by the time I'm off the treadmill, I'm not in the mood for more hot nectar from the gods.

The last couple mornings, the joke has been, "Get up and get your coffee. We can't have you dozing off in math class again today."

When I woke him up this morning, I told him to get up, get showered, and get a cup of Joe. After doing so, he plopped down on the couch and proceeded to flip through the channels, stopping on one of those "Chuckie" movies. You know, the ones where the doll comes to life and goes on killing sprees.

The movies used to scare the beejesus out of the kids when they were younger. Come to think of it, I've always found them slightly unsettling, too. It's a doll, obivously, possessed by some deranged killer (if memory serves). I understand the concept, and I do realize it's just a movie, but I never really got how a doll could possess superhuman powers. My feelings towards the movie ranged from, "Oh, c'mon, how stupid," to "I'm keeping an eye on any and all dolls because you never know when one is going to be inhabited by the spirit of a killer."

I was making my morning rounds, topping off the cat food, freshening the water dish, picking up dirty clothes, and all those other things I do first thing in the morning.

The oldest child never stirs until the last possible moment. He gives himself enough time to shower, get dressed, and start his car before having to hit the road to get to school a few minutes before the bell rings.

I overheard him say to his younger brother, "Great. You're watching Chuckie? Now you're going to have nightmares when you fall asleep in math class this morning."

While I certainly don't appreciate my child falling asleep during school, I definitely appreciate wit.