Monday, The Big Boy's college roommate had treatment for an AVM...an abnormal cluster of blood vessels in the brain. Obviously, we have been friends for a LONG time. Back in the day. Along with his then-girlfriend/now-wife. They are Very Important People in our lives.
It was scary. Never mind that we have kids and mortgages and sags and wrinkles...to each other we are still who we were. Funny and active and interesting and adventurous and athletic and...oh, yeah. Skinny. Don't be forgettin' the skinny.
So this was as traumatic a mind-event as it was a physical event. We are now mortal...US, the have-it-all's. One of us is SICK. Like, sick. Like, not immortal. It was shattering.
Everything went better than you could ask for. The scary procedure, which involved holes in his skull, was out-patient. OUT-PATIENT. They drilled holes in that boy's skull and sent him home. (Actually, we went to Cracker Barrel because he hadn't eaten for 24 hours and he mainlined pancake syrup.) But it was awe-inspiring...the entire procedure. I think he was most concerned that we walked into a public place and he was wearing sweats...his family owned a prep-orientated men's shop in his hometown and he be all ABOUT some Brooks Brothers. When he said that? I laughed out loud. "Eric!!! YOU HAVE FOUR HOLES IN YOUR HEAD. I don't think people will be looking at your sweats." And the procedure worked and he's safe and we came home and now we can get on with being normal people with normal lives.
College Roommate went home and rested. Napped a little. Watched a little television. Snacked a little bit. Thanked God. More than once.
And then all hell broke loose. His sixteen-year-old son came home, cornered College Roommate's Wife, and confessed that he and his girlfriend had had sex. While mother and son were standing in a corner in the kitchen, the phone rang. It was the girlfriend's mother, who had found this out (I didn't ask how) and precipatated this entire confession thing. And the girlfriend's mother was off-the-charts. Off. The. Charts. She was ranting and raving and demanding that CR and CRW get over to her house IMMEDIATELY so that they could talk about this and something had to be done and girlfriend's FATHER, who (to quote) is on a nekkid beach in Hawaii with his new 25-year-old wife, is to be included in this talk and SOMETHING HAS TO BE DONE RIGHT NOW.
Except? This is 2009. And CR and CRW had been monitoring text messages for some time and they knew this was coming. (Not a pun. Get to that later.) They had been watching, and talking to Son, and talking some more.
Oh, y'all. They have a print-out of text messages. YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THS STUFF. The girl texted graphic descriptions of her physical state. She texted, "We have to do this." She texted, "We need to hook up. (Physical comment.) What r we waiting 4?" It's all on paper and in black and white and I'M SORRY. I know I'm on the boy's side but...he's a 16-year-old boy and this stuff is deep and that girl was PUSHING.
Keep in mind I have three daughters and I'm one down, two to go and I WATCH THESE THINGS.
Anyway. Finally, after freaked-out mom has unloaded all her life problems which include a deadbeat "fiance" who can't marry her because he doesn't have enough money, on CRW and then demanded a meeting, CRW finally lost it. Lost it. And I will give her that I bet she lasted longer than we would have.
She blurted out, "WE HAD BRAIN SURGERY THIS MORNING. And it is now eleven o'clock at night and THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT YOUR DAUGHTER, THE-CHILD-DESPERATE-FOR-ATTENTION. I will kill my son, the idiot, TOMORROW. But right now? Right now? CR is alive and not paralyzed and not crippled and...two teenagers just had sex in a truck and as far as I'm concerned? I'VE HEARD OF THIS HAPPENING."
I was rolling in the floor by the time CR got through telling this story. His skull is oozing bodily fluids and his son just had sex. Only, turns out? The son was so nervous he...didn't ooze bodily fluids.
All this grief and? Nothing. The kid is convinced he's going to hell, the dad in Hawaii is pissed because his wife doesn't do teenage daughters, Tuesday came and Tuesday went and teenage son has no cellphone and no car and no life and...he didn't get there.
Didn't even come close. :)
It was scary. Never mind that we have kids and mortgages and sags and wrinkles...to each other we are still who we were. Funny and active and interesting and adventurous and athletic and...oh, yeah. Skinny. Don't be forgettin' the skinny.
So this was as traumatic a mind-event as it was a physical event. We are now mortal...US, the have-it-all's. One of us is SICK. Like, sick. Like, not immortal. It was shattering.
Everything went better than you could ask for. The scary procedure, which involved holes in his skull, was out-patient. OUT-PATIENT. They drilled holes in that boy's skull and sent him home. (Actually, we went to Cracker Barrel because he hadn't eaten for 24 hours and he mainlined pancake syrup.) But it was awe-inspiring...the entire procedure. I think he was most concerned that we walked into a public place and he was wearing sweats...his family owned a prep-orientated men's shop in his hometown and he be all ABOUT some Brooks Brothers. When he said that? I laughed out loud. "Eric!!! YOU HAVE FOUR HOLES IN YOUR HEAD. I don't think people will be looking at your sweats." And the procedure worked and he's safe and we came home and now we can get on with being normal people with normal lives.
College Roommate went home and rested. Napped a little. Watched a little television. Snacked a little bit. Thanked God. More than once.
And then all hell broke loose. His sixteen-year-old son came home, cornered College Roommate's Wife, and confessed that he and his girlfriend had had sex. While mother and son were standing in a corner in the kitchen, the phone rang. It was the girlfriend's mother, who had found this out (I didn't ask how) and precipatated this entire confession thing. And the girlfriend's mother was off-the-charts. Off. The. Charts. She was ranting and raving and demanding that CR and CRW get over to her house IMMEDIATELY so that they could talk about this and something had to be done and girlfriend's FATHER, who (to quote) is on a nekkid beach in Hawaii with his new 25-year-old wife, is to be included in this talk and SOMETHING HAS TO BE DONE RIGHT NOW.
Except? This is 2009. And CR and CRW had been monitoring text messages for some time and they knew this was coming. (Not a pun. Get to that later.) They had been watching, and talking to Son, and talking some more.
Oh, y'all. They have a print-out of text messages. YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE THS STUFF. The girl texted graphic descriptions of her physical state. She texted, "We have to do this." She texted, "We need to hook up. (Physical comment.) What r we waiting 4?" It's all on paper and in black and white and I'M SORRY. I know I'm on the boy's side but...he's a 16-year-old boy and this stuff is deep and that girl was PUSHING.
Keep in mind I have three daughters and I'm one down, two to go and I WATCH THESE THINGS.
Anyway. Finally, after freaked-out mom has unloaded all her life problems which include a deadbeat "fiance" who can't marry her because he doesn't have enough money, on CRW and then demanded a meeting, CRW finally lost it. Lost it. And I will give her that I bet she lasted longer than we would have.
She blurted out, "WE HAD BRAIN SURGERY THIS MORNING. And it is now eleven o'clock at night and THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT YOUR DAUGHTER, THE-CHILD-DESPERATE-FOR-ATTENTION. I will kill my son, the idiot, TOMORROW. But right now? Right now? CR is alive and not paralyzed and not crippled and...two teenagers just had sex in a truck and as far as I'm concerned? I'VE HEARD OF THIS HAPPENING."
I was rolling in the floor by the time CR got through telling this story. His skull is oozing bodily fluids and his son just had sex. Only, turns out? The son was so nervous he...didn't ooze bodily fluids.
All this grief and? Nothing. The kid is convinced he's going to hell, the dad in Hawaii is pissed because his wife doesn't do teenage daughters, Tuesday came and Tuesday went and teenage son has no cellphone and no car and no life and...he didn't get there.
Didn't even come close. :)
Comments
That child will have to wear Depends because he'll never open his fly again.