We had an interesting evening meal tonight.

With Dagmar off babysitting and the kids’ friend Brian here – Angel Girl and I were outnumbered at the supper table.

And since the guys had all been out working on Pedro’s truck – the conversation was littered with a strange terminology.

Angel Girl and I just took it all in.

Then we heard Brian describe this truck that he drove – his face animated:

“It’s a 7.3 turbo diesel 2000 Ford F350 super duty, bully-dog chipped, 500 horsepower machine.”

All the males at the table smiled appreciatively while Pedro responded with a very heartfelt, “Sweet!”

I just shook my head and said, “I have no idea what you just said.”

Brian answered, “It’s a really big truck that smokes when I drive it.”


Now that I can understand.

Sometimes you just need an interpretation.

Packing and theTeenage Male

PackingI spent a goodly part of one week helping Pedro pack for his 10 day trip to Teen Pact Venture in Tennessee.

With 5 days on the road there and back and another 5 days at camp – it seemed to me that he needed a little guidance.

I helped him find more jeans, a suit coat, dress slacks, a outfit for golf and raided his dad’s t-shirts to make sure he had enough.

I carefully counted and folded and made nice piles for him.

I even bought him new underwear.

All the while there was this annoying little thought that kept coming back – “Why am I doing this? Pedro is a teenage boy who has been known to wear the same clothes for days at time…”

But the mother in me couldn’t let it go.

I was even kinda proud as he drove off on his adventure because I knew that he was prepared.

It didn’t last long.

I was brought back to reality within minutes of picking him up after his return trip.

He looked good and was sharing story after story of his time away – laughing and joking with his siblings.

Finally the mother in me just couldn’t wait any longer – so I asked him, “How did your clothes work out? Did you have enough of everything?”

“Well”, he responded, “I basically wore these jeans pretty much all week.”

(His sisters slide further away from him on the van seat.)

“What!” (I’m remembering all those trips up and down the attic stairs digging through his winter clothes to find enough jeans) “How about t-shirts? Did you have enough t-shirts?”

“I had way too many – I really only needed a couple.”

“A couple!” (You were gone 10 days! What about my neat little piles of carefully folded and counted shirts?!)

“Oh dear. What about your underwear? Did you have enough… No! Stop! Don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.”

Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Next time I’ll let him pack himself. 🙂

Those Aren’t Mine!

My kidlets are all home again. Ahh….

The three oldest kids returned from Teen Pact National Convention full of stories punctuated with exclamation points (!!! ) and everything they took with them – minus the snacks.

We got a great feel for their week away when we looked through the pictures they took. One picture stood out to me – I’m still not sure why they took it – but it was kind of funny!

It is a picture of someone’s sleeping bag and bag of clothes. They unloaded it there on Monday afternoon and never picked it up.


All week the sleeping bag and bag of clothes sat there. All week it was announced that someone’s sleeping bag and clothes were sitting outside.

But they were never claimed.

Some boy had slept on a bare mattress all week and never changed his clothes. I jokingly said that all they needed to do was smell the kids about Wednesday and you would know who hadn’t changed their underwear. 🙂  But then I remembered that this was a bunch of junior and senior high boys – so that test wouldn’t be very accurate.

Seriously – I wondered how in the world someone would not miss their things?!

But then I remembered that these were junior and senior high boys.

Case in point: earlier this spring one of my sons suddenly lost all of his jeans. They were not in his dresser – they weren’t in his dad’s dresser or his brothers. They had simply vanished into thin air.

He went an entire week with alternating between his one pair of jeans and his pajama pants.

Finally – I went up to check the attic where all the kids have a Rubbermaid plastic tote for off-season clothes. Voila! There were several pairs of jeans in his tote – in his size.

I brought them down – but he looked at them and said. “Those aren’t mine – I’ve never seen them before.”

Hello! He wore those jeans all winter. I bought them for him. I washed them and folded them all winter long. Those were his jeans. He probably carried them up on a warm spring day – thinking he wouldn’t need them anymore and forgot about it.

I said, “Humor me – just try them on.”

Would you believe – they fit?!

I just smiled my “all-knowing mother smile” and proclaimed it a miracle.

Now I totally understand why some teenage boy never recognized his own sleeping bag and clothes. It’s called adolescence.

And I can totally understand his mom’s frustration when her son arrived home empty handed.

I send her my sympathies.

Techie Son Edit: I’m still sure those jeans weren’t mine.