Parenting: a handy how-not-to guide

My husband is letting my son play Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. Despite my intense and vehement disapproval and dismay. He's forbidden the use of firearms in the course of the game (kind of defeating the point), but can't do anything about the language. He just initiated a cheat code that turns all of the pedestrians into Elvis, and my son thought we meant the kid in his class named Elvis. I wanted to make all of the pedestrians into ninjas during a thunderstorm, solely for my amusement. But it turns out they aren't *really* ninjas. Just generic Asian-looking characters wandering around carrying katanas. Who refuse to be struck by lightning! So that's kind of lame.

Since school is almost out (tomorrow is the last day), we've been letting the kid stay up kind of later than usual - last night he was up until almost eleven because he'd spent the afternoon in the pool and took a late nap. I spent a good part of the late afternoon and early evening curled up in my bed, too. For whatever reason I was totally exhausted, and I very rarely disappear when we have company, but I just had to sleep. (It couldn't have had anything to do with all the direct sun exposure I got...or the two glasses of Erdinger Hefe-Weizen dark in less than an hour.) My husband's family didn't seem to mind - NASCAR was on, and we have hi-def cable and a flat screen tv for everyone's amusement.


This is how I redeem myself - by making my child as offbeat and odd as myself. (He loves that shirt.)

Tomorrow is the last day of kindergarten, and a half-day, so the growned ups are also cutting out early (or, in the case of my husband, electing to not have a work day at all), and arranging something fun as a reward for a good school year. Starting next week we'll have to leave the house a half-hour earlier every morning to drop the boy off at summer camp and make it to work on time. This is going to be a nearly impossible task...and I predict it shall be the death of me.