I picked up Golden Boy and the other 13 year-old members of the Do-good Brigade to make a quick three-minute drive to the pool. (It was approximately 2.8 miles from the house.)
Along the way I was serenaded by various speeches (involving things I don't think should be discussed in front of a MOTHER) spoken in Chinese, Pig Latin, Spanish and what I can only assume was German. They managed to give each other way too many HORRIBLE punches, pinches and noogies – all the while managing to spot EVERY single punch bug and yellow and orange vehicle along the way. (The ceiling of my car is still in pain.)
They teased each other relentlessly about would be (cough) girlfriends –their names- and whose photos may or may not be screensavers on certain I-phones. (And other things that STILL should not be talked about in front of MOTHERS.)
And when they hurriedly exited the car to join the other thousand tweens that were spending a glorious day at the pool, one of them noticed the book laying on the floor of my car.
“A Discovery of Witches? WITCHES? Yeah. That MUST be a typo!”
And they all ran from the car in a roar of hysteria over someone’s moment of brilliance.
And me?
I laughed the whole way home. Surely that boy gets his quick wit from his mother.
And yes, she thought it was damn funny.
