Normally, at least I would think, people like to sleep in. I would say if a person was asked “given the opportunity would you sleep in if you could?” I think most would say “yes.”
Then there’s my son.
I woke up late for me. Mr. D let me sleep in, which I always appreciate. It’s just a deal with us not to bother the other person if they are asleep. If Mr. D sleeps in it’s because he really needs it. Sometimes it gets him breakfast in bed, which doesn’t hurt, right? Anyway, I woke up late. I looked into the hallway and saw Kameron and Samanthas doors were both shut. Which meant they were still sleeping. Too much Thanksgiving celebration perhaps. Kameron’s had a little bit of a cold, so I figured the extra sleep couldn’t hurt.
I walked out into the living room finding Mr. D in the “Sunday Position.” The Sunday Position is him sitting on the couch with coffee, the news paper up on the computer, and some ridiculous political show on the TV. He must have heard me because he got up, gave me a kiss and a hug. I squeezed back and asked “where is everybody?” “Still asleep I guess” he said as he sat back down to watch the political ridiculousness. Samantha surfaced not too long after. Kameron was still not spoken for, like I said, he had a touch of a cold, so I wasn’t too worried about him.
About a half hour later I heard a rather large sigh. I looked back and there was my son looking barely awake and rather annoyed. I said “hey Boo” and got up to hug him – which he was clearly not in the mood for. I stood back and asked “what’s wrong with you?” I mean, the kid has at least ten hours of sleep, how could he possibly be in a rotten mood? He looked at me with big tears in his eyes and said “how could you?” A little surprised, I said “how could I what?” He started stomping towards the stairs and I said “Kameron, get back here, what is your problem?” (Now I’m irritated.) He sat down on the steps with his head in his hands.
Thinking the possibility of his explanation being completely without merit and ridiculous, I do what any good parent would do – push record on my iPhone.
He said “how could you let me sleep in like that?” I said “well, you’ve had a cold, and I thought you might need the rest.” “Mom, I didn’t get to start playing my game!” (It’s a wrestling game that he got last week – I didn’t buy it – he paid for it himself.) I thought to myself is this kid serious? Surely there has to be some explanation for this upheaval of emotions regarding this game. I sent Mr. D to make sure as Kameron stomped upstairs.
Kameron sitting on the couch crying, Mr. D confirmed that nothing could have happened to the game while he was asleep. No levels were lost. No players gone. No match not finished. He just wanted to get up earlier damnit and play the game. Since we didn’t get him up in protest he was just going to sit on the couch, stare at the blank tv, and cry. This is what I call 12 year old boy PMS. I sat on the couch and just shook my head. What was I suppose to do – it’s freakin ridiculous.
About ten minutes later his friend Ben who lives down the street rang the doorbell. Mr. D let him in and told him Kameron was upstairs.
It was a transformation. Right before my eyes my emotional, pathetic, crying at the blank tv son became Kameron again.
Geez he’s only 12.