surly, smart-assed rejection

Posted on March 27, 2007
Filed Under Judd Nelson from The Breakfast Club, kids, parenting | 6 Comments

I am really starting to wonder when Adsense is going to forget about that lice post awhile back. Oh Shit, I’ve typed the word again ensuring a lifetime of LiceKiller ads on my blog. Enough already. If I write about regret and bitterness and abysmal sadness can we at least run some Prozac ads or feature some other psycho pharmaceutical we all might be interested in. Let’s move on Adsense, let’s move on.

Speaking of moving on, I’m sorry to beat this horse, but I need to record the latest development in O’s transformation into Judd Nelson’s character from The Breakfast Club. On Friday night, as I was putting O to bed, I began my usual ‘tucking in’ ritual which includes pulling the curtains, shoving loose clothing into drawers, picking staples out of the carpet and turning on the night light when O sat upright in his bed and announced, “I won’t be needing that night light anymore. So you can throw it out.”

There was an awkward silence before I unplugged it from the wall and walked over to the waste basket beside his desk. I dropped it in, feigning indifference, perfecting a what-do-I-care flip of the hand. It landed right side up, the sad embodiment of childhood innocence there at the bottom of the wicker trash can. I left it there all weekend, hoping he might reconsider. I anticipated a whispered, “I think I’d like my night light back,” sometime during the dark, cold night. But he was more than fine without it. He was positively glib with self importance by Sunday. Announcing to his sister, “You are still a baby because you need your closet light on at night and you sleep with a doll.” He said this with a snarl, indicating that being a baby was the absolute worst thing one could be. When in fact, Judd Nelson’s character from The Breakfast Club has few redeeming characteristics and I miss the baby version of O acutely.

He hasn’t quite gotten around to rejecting the 1200 stuffed animals that reside in his room but I am steeling myself for the possibility. I will miss you Pooh, Camel, Wild Thing, Sock Monkey, Ugly Doll and Snowy Owl… Sob. The end of an era and the beginning of some new stage of development for which I am ill prepared. Are their books on how to do this surly, smart-assed stage well? I am on my way to f-ing this up. HELP!