Friday, June 15, 2007

Crazy wears blue eye-shadow.

I am insane.

Due to a birth defect present in many children born to Southern women, my 13 year old boy suffers from a mad love of NASCAR. Sure I’m ashamed of him because of it, but the law says I have to love him anyway.

I try to reduce the number of outbreaks every chance I get, but my ex-husband AKA the boy’s father, does everything he can to ensure The Big Dog never overcomes it. There is dirt racing every Friday night and of course, watching fast cars on TV go round and round whenever possible.

So why then for his birthday last month did I purchase for him a ride in a NASCAR at the Kansas Speedway? This would be where the insane part comes in.

It was one thing to buy the certificate for the 15th of June when the 15th of June was weeks away. It is another thing to actually watch my little boy strap in a vehicle this afternoon that promises to go about 175 mph.

I couldn’t get him a nice sweater or a slinky? Everybody knows a slinky is fun for a girl and a boy. A nice wool sweater only enhances the amusement.

Momentarily he and I will drive the distance to the Big City and I will feed his disease in a way it’s never been fed. I imagine he will leave there firmly convinced that college can wait, track is for sissies and wondering aloud which religion has the best direct line to God so he can join up and ask The Big Guy for a race car and a fire suit.

Throughout my life I have done some idiotic things in the name of love but this was one of the biggest. I would consider faking a serious illness to avoid it, perhaps even throw up a little blood, but I am convinced he would hitch a ride with the first Speedway bound vehicle he happened upon. As Michael Jackson drives around our neighborhood frequently, I’d better get going. I have to bust the tube top out of storage, paint on plenty of blue eye-shadow and make sure I have enough time to pick up a pack of smokes for Mommy and some Redman for the boy.

Oh my sweet lord. I think I really am going to vomit blood.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Probably the best "love song" ever in the history of the entire world.




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13 comments:

Flutterby said...

We do crazy things because we love our children. For me, it was allowing my husband to tell our daughter she can have a ride in a hot air balloon when she turns 16. I've spent the last 13 years watching those things float by our house almost every day, and hundreds of them every October during the fiesta. And it still turns my stomach upside down when I see them and realize there are freaking PEOPLE up there and that is just a freaking ass BALLOON holding them up.

Flutterby said...

And I forgot my main reason for writing.. you will survive, and so will he. In fact, I would bet as much as he may love it, it will scare the shit out of him, lol. There is probably no danger of him wanting to be a driver.

Jami said...

My son wants to grow up and be (among other things) a professional motocross racer. He periodically asks me if he can have a motocross motorcycle so he can start his career and my answer is always, "You bet, sweetie. As soon as you can drive one legally on the public streets of the state of Texas, you can start saving up your money to buy one. And to pay for the gas. And the insurance. When you've got the money, I'll even help you pick one out." I plan to use the same answer when he starts asking about a car.

LarryLilly said...

Well, he could have told you he wanted to be a piano player in a whore house.

Then what? An upright, or a grand?

LOL

Look at the bright side. Excuse me, in NASCAR, there is no bright, and they dont even allow chrome. Look at the different perspective, he could get real good, get sponsors, and every time he comes over for turkey dinner, he will sit there continuously putting on and taking off different sponsors baseball hats.

LOL

Nancy said...

Like I have said before ... when ever I heard NASCAR ... I just thought is was the way people from the south said "nice car"

Grab those daisy dukes while you are getting the tube top out.

TSG said...

While I enjoy watching an occasional NASCAR event, I have never exhibited the wild enthusiasm expected of me by friends and family. A fact which I am sure is a source of embarrassment to my entire family. But for a real enthusiast (especially a 13 year old) I can't imagine a bigger thrill! What a great gift! This should elevate your coolness to an astronomical level .

I see you know how to dress for the occasion, but could I suggest white eye liner, and while your at it pick up some of those sandals that lace to the knee! Matching Mom & Son tooled leather Skoal belt caddys are always considered appropriate at such an event.

BTW Jami, I tried both Motocross and Enduro racing years ago. I just don't enjoy falling down that much.

Jami said...

TSG: I grew up riding motorcycles of all kinds - I had a much more permissive set of parents than we tend to be - and I still carry scars. Hmmm...I think I'll add "and can pay your own medical bills" to the list for my son.

MarmiteToasty said...

Dont one have to be toothless to ride NASCARs LOL ;)

I bet he has a wonderful time, good on you for letting him face death so early in life LOL.....

x

Sher said...

Flutterby,
I do crazy things out of love for my kids but mainly because I am crazy. Not only did it NOT scare him, he said it was THE BEST thing he's ever done in his entire life.

Jami,
Sounds like your kid needs a job pretty quick. Maybe I should try that logic on my son.

Larry,
He has his Mother's lack of digital dexterity. No piano playing for him.

Nancy,
That is exactly right. And fyi..."far" is something you put out with water.

TSG,
White eye liner! How could I forget? You're right, it was the thrill of his life.

Marmie,
Just toothless at heart!

And to all my blog readers...here's the real scoop direct from me to you:

I WANNA DO IT!!! I have never been so excited in my life and all I could think was how bad I wanted to drive one. The whole thing was insanely thrilling and I've decided to become a NASCAR driver at the earliest convenience.

BrentD said...

Great thinking. The "Driving a Nascar" therapy will surely cure him, just like the "Smoking a Whole Pack of Cigarettes at Once" therapy has cured countless other of destructive habits.

Unless of course he is greeted by attractive women upon leaveing the vehicle, then he will be hooked for life by the unimaginable power of male fantasy.

Hmmmm.

Sher said...

Ominous Brent,
Admittedly my logic was flawed.

Since I have decided to drive a NASCAR and have let my son know we are going to be the first Mother-Son driving team, it's gonna be super white trash fun. Watch for us on the same channel as wrestling.

Jami said...

"first Mother-Son driving team"

Well, that's sure to bring his NASCAR career fantasies to a screeching halt.

Catwoman said...

Absolutely hysterical. My husband also suffers of this birth defect. Although, I've beaten it out of him enough that he doesn't wear outfits with numbers like 8 or 24 ever.

I'm hoping that I beat that gene right out of him so that it didn't get transferred to our son. I'll let you know in 6 years if I was successful.