Un-cool, Part Two

If you’re like me and your kids are nearly adults, you’ve spent most of their lives leading by example. Teaching them how to treat others with genuine kindness and respect, act with high moral standards. Do what’s right.

While doing this I whispered to the cool, hip one, “Your turn will come. Now’s not the time.”

The voice inside shouts to the dinosaur currently paying my body’s rent. “But when?” 

“Dinosaur? I take offense! Soon. Be patient.”

Watering them lovingly for years, they've grown into gorgeous saplings. I’ve done my job and it’s time to cast them free. Experiment with life, shoulder consequences and develop healthy, lasting relationships.

Guess who gets to come out to play now? Meeeeeee! Myself. The same mom, just funnier and more rambunctious. 

By now, my friends have told them stories about what I used to be like. They’re intelligent enough to know (because they’re my kids after all), there’s more to mom than meets the eye.

But it’s better to let out “cool and hip” me slowly. Don’t want anyone to freak.

Testing it out, I start belting out songs and seat dancing while driving together.

“Mom, you know the words to this song?”

“I’m down with this stuff.” (They don’t need to know it’s a remake)

“Ummmm. Wrong.”

Next step….Hit the dance floor at a college party.

Amanda says, “Whoa! Take it easy there, Mom! You’re not as good as you think!”

“Oh yeah! Dance with meeeeeee!!! I’ve had two beers. Watch me bust this move!”

“Matt! Get her to stop! NOW!”

On a roll, I try sprinkling in some language, including some “swears”, to spice things up. What did we used to say?

I know.

“I’m bad to the bone. Oh, don’t have a cow. Take a chill pill! Am I in deep shit?”

“Mom, you sound ridiculous. Plus you don’t swear. You’re not even good at it.”

“Wanna fucking* bet?”

It’s all in the 'tude.

Their friends thought I was cool.

*****************************************

Blogger's Note: This piece is almost entirely fiction... except for possibly the swearing and the things I've done right in raising my kids, of course. I'm way more chill than this! And dare I say cool.

*Just so it’s clear, they were definitely of driving age before the f-bomb passed my lips in their presence….I think! I should ask them.

The writing challenge was to use the third definition of the word Dinosaur: 3. one that is impractically large, out-of-date or obsolete.