Friday Morning

Elliott is on a Friday morning golf league with his school friend, Casey. They’re having a great time and can’t decide what the bigger blessing is; pointers from the local high school’s golf team or the free diet Coke afterward at the clubhouse.

When Casey’s folks and I found out that the tee-time was scheduled for 7:35 in the AM, we decided a carpool was in order. Turns out Casey’s neighbor friend is on their foursome, so they got in on the carpool action as well.

I’ve driven the boys to the course a few times, today being my third. The boys are usually good and squirrelly, but the drive is a short one so I can deal with it. Today, however, things went very awry.

As I was driving along, I could hear Casey saying “Shut Up”. I threw out a mommy-type “Hey” (watch it) kind of thing. I was talking to Noah, and I heard it once or twice more and finally had to say “don’t talk like that in this car; you’re teaching Noah bad behavior”. For a nanosecond, it was quiet but then it happened – the neighbor kid (who, by the by, is a few years older than Elliott and Casey, so I’m sure they idolize him), says “Shut Up”…TO ME!! I don’t know if it sunk in entirely, but the boys were having a good laugh about it – except for Elliott that is… he presented a nervous half smile as his eyes darted back and forth. Noah broke my fuming trance (or worsened it) but blurting out “SHUD-UP DOODY HEADY!”

Four words: If looks could kill.

We pulled into the parking lot, and without a word, I got out and retrieved their golf clubs. Elliott didn’t say much, but kept trying to get my attention – perhaps to ascertain my next move. Little did he know, I didn’t have one yet. I’ve never been told to ‘shut up’ by a 9 year old. Thus far, my only rebuttal was “the look”, which I’m not even sure works on kids aside from your own offspring. Elliott finally says “mom, I didn’t say it, okay?” With a Kool Aid grin, Casey blurts “Ya – it was US!” as if it was something to be proud of. I tried to reassure Elliott that I wasn’t upset with him, but I’m sure he had a hard time seeing past the steam shooting from my nostrils. I quickly resolved that I was going to mention this in passing to Casey’s parents, and hope that the news spread to neighbor kid’s folks. Mind you, this isn’t how I ever saw myself handing this sort of thing, but I was stumped. Swallowing all of my pride, I yelled for the boys to have a good time as they began their walk to hole 1. Get this: the neighbor kid turns around and yells “SHUT UP!” and laughs like mad with Casey. Elliott may have whiplash from the force and speed of his head turning to once again, see my reaction. This time I had one.

“GET OVER HERE YOU TWO!” I yelled. They’re sassy, but not stupid. They showed up just in time for me to take a deep breath and lay into them. Rest assured my lecture contained the classic “I don’t know who you think you are or just who you think you’re talking to but…” and, “you DO NOT talk to adults that way” and of course “how do you feel about my calling your parents up about this?” After my rant and right on queue, the neighbor kid denied saying it. I think I actually wagged my finger at him… “I’m not deaf, dumb or blind! I know what disrespect is when I see it…blah blah blah…”

I left a message for Casey’s parents to call me. I haven’t yet heard back from them, but I have no reservations about tattling on the little worms. I could tell Elliott felt terrible – what a rotten predicament for a kid. I just heard from Andy, who said that Elliott told him all about it. Evidentially, after I drove off, Elliott had a word with his friend, saying he didn’t like how rude he was. The friend apologized but to Elliott’s dismay, the neighbor kid didn’t care. To each his own I guess.

This was the first time I’ve ever been the butt of an immature joke or outnumbered as a mother. I was almost teary as I realized that like it or not, it was a milestone in my journey as a mother. I got home, explained to Noah that those boys were not very nice, and hugged him hard; as if I could stunt his inevitable growth with my unwillingness to imagine what his reaction might be some day under the same circumstances.