If you happened to have come by my house a couple of weeks ago, you would have seen the following note posted to my front door:
“For those of you whom I failed to get in contact with, I am NOT hosting a Super Bowl party on Sunday due to negative maternal influences. I deeply apologize for any inconveniences to you all! Sincerely ,,,”
… and it had my teenage daughter’s signature.
Now, all of you who have teenagers now or ever had teenagers in the past know immediately there is more to this than meets the eye. A party didn’t merely get cancelled.
The week before this note appeared, my daughter asked me if she could ask some friends over to our house to watch movies. There would be six of them, including some guys. I said yes, which is somewhat of a commitment on the part of the parent because it means being banished to the back of the house for the duration of the movie, seeing as how embarrassing we are to our children at this age.
Well, it didn’t work out, and they ended up doing something else that night. Phew. I hate to admit I’m always relieved when the cluster moves to someone else’s house for a while.
Several days later she asked nonchalantly if she could have friends over to watch the Super Bowl. I said no, simply because we had other plans. Her eyes got this look of panic in them.
“It’s okay … you don’t have to be here!” she insisted.
Oh, the plight of being the third child. This momma knows what kinds of things happen when she’s not around, so the answer was still “NO!” with a capital “N”.
She began to regroup for the second attack, this time using flattery.
“But Mom”, she said, with sweetness dripping from the words, “all my friends think you a ‘cool’ mom. It would be really cool if you’d let them come over.”
Didn’t work. I really don’t care who thinks I’m cool or not. I don’t want a bunch of teenagers in my house when I’m gone.
It was time for additional strategy on my daughter’s part. Her tactic this time was bribery. “I’ll clean the whole house!” she offered.
Nope. Not gonna work. Although it would have been fun to see this person, who can’t seem to put dirty clothes in the hamper, clean the whole house.
She followed that attempt with guilt. “I hardly EVER have friends over!”
Not true. My house is rarely absent of beings belonging to the teenage species.
Then negotiation. “You were okay with my having friends over last week, so you should be okay with it this week.”
Sorry … different week, different deal, different answer.
After that she succumbed to begging. “PULLLEEEAAASSSEEE!”
Most moms are immune to pleading hearts by the teenage years. I know I am.
Next, she tried playing the sympathy card. “I’ve sort of already invited them and it will be SO embarrassing if I have to tell them now I can’t have them over.”
I told her to just call them and uninvite them. Of course, I thought this would entail, at the most, six phone calls.
And finally, the truth. “Well, I sorta kinda told everybody at so-n-so’s birthday party last week that I would probably be able to have a Super Bowl party, and I don’t remember who all it was or what their phone numbers are and who all they might have told. So, you see, there’s no way I can cancel it!”
It’s amazing what mommas can cancel.
