Dear Roger: Defective Teen Sons,Soccer and Musical Theater

Its been a bit of a productive week around here. It finally cooled off a little so it is not constantly hotter than Satans scrotum around here and we are all a little less cranky, but we are still broke as hell and that has not made our moods much sweeter. Its frustrating to constantly have to tell my kids,"We cant afford it", especially if the it is something like a loaf of bread or a jar of freaking peanut butter! Yea, we have been that Goddamned broke this month! Leave it to me to forget that this is a very long month, and when I paid up all the bills at the beginning,I neglected to allow for the extra week, can you say suuuuck? On the bright side I always try to prepare for lean times and I had extra rice stashed away and staples, so I have been able to cook up some pretty creative meals that the kids have claimed were pretty good. Last night I made rice with some chicken and green beans, sauteed with some leftover squash and garlic. It was weird, but it was food.

We walked over to the kids new schools and got them registered this week, and while Stevies was really easy to take care of, with minimal decisions to be made, Chances was a whole 'nuther ball of wax. I swear I filled out more paperwork for him to go to high school than I filled out to go to grad school! There were 3 different forms wanting to know if we spoke English at home! I felt like answering ,'NO" after the 3rd one and putting in Gaelic just for the pure cussedness of it because of all the hassle. We met with a counselor and Chance was thrilled to find that he can still play football, though I lobbied most passionately for soccer. I just do not get the whole attraction of football, soccer is much more of a pure athletic event and requires you to be in much better condition and if you are an aggressive player,(like he used to be) then you can still work out your stress on the opposing team, but he would rather suit up with all the other meat heads and play football, bashing into each other for small gain. He claims he wouldn't have allowed me to come to any soccer matches of his anyway because I am,"such a soccer-nazi freak" that I would either pick fights or embarrass him by going postal on the sidelines. I just get into the game because I played it, and I played it well and I have a passion for it, and I miss playing it at the team level, so when those who do get to play it, just half-ass it, that makes me a little crazy. I expect a full measure of effort out of him when he goes out for something and I cheer him vigorously when he does, and I guess he finds that embarrassing.

He also decided to enroll in all honors classes as was his right with his levels, and I was proud to see that he didnt attempt to slack off. He also selected theater as an elective along with musical chorus.He has to audition before he gets an actual part chorus, but the boy is constantly singing so hopefully that will come of some good for him. His school has a swim team and a water polo team, and I asked him if he intended on participating in any of those sports and he gave me the most annoyed look," Mom, I have enough hair on my body for two full grown men! If I got into the pool, they would freak out." So I guess that means swim team is out. He is talking about letting his hair grow back out, though he still insists that he wants to get rid of his curls! How the hell he expects to do that on a permanent basis, I have no clue, but I have tried to convince him that women find curls to be irresistible, and he just rolls his eyes at me and says,"Im not into grandmas, I like girls my age and they dont like guys with curls! Im not a sheep, im a man, mom! Im not cuddly, I want to look cool, not like some old dork." Soo, I offered to just shear him bald so he could look like every other little wannabe rapper he seems to listen to now days, and he did not appreciate the offer.

My son has also been talking about ,"gauging" his ears, as in making his ear piercings into these huge holes that are just GROSS! and I swear by all that is Holy, I will end the fool that does that to my kid. Trying to get him to understand that for someone who claims to want to be an actor from time to time, that he really shouldn't put extraneous holes in his face, is like trying to convince him that skinny jeans are a fashion failure. At least right now I have on my side the fact that he is underage for all that kind of insanity and I can keep him from doing anymore damage than necessary. He has the same genetic quirk as me that makes him someone who scars really visibly, and it just would not be a good thing for him to put holes in his face. He goes all emo on me from time to time, proclaiming that he doesn't stand a chance as an actor anyway because he is a nobody from nowhere, with nothing, but I just try and encourage him to keep his heart on his dreams with his mind in the game that is getting the best education that he can get, with college and other options to support himself while he works towards his goals, but that he cannot let himself give up.

I am supposed to take him shopping for football cleats in a size 13 as well as a mouth guard, and most uncomfortably, a cup and jock.When we were looking over the list of stuff to buy, seeing the color drain out of his face was kind of funny, but then again, it wasn't a particularly pleasant thing for me to consider either, I just do not even want to be aware of my sons bits and pieces at this juncture, and according to online research, the cups come in particular sizes, oh bloody hell! He asked me to just give him my card, but last time I did that, he came home with rock t-shirt, and a "I like Boobies" bracelet, wound up on rockstar sodas, giggling over stuff that had gone on at the mall, so that is not even an option. Its times like this, a rent a man or even a reliable male friend who knows about such things as cups, jocks, and cleats could be utilized to help him with these things, instead of his mom, who is prone to asking embarrassing questions or being an embarrassment, simply by her presence. I wish you were here.