Frumpy

I have a nine year old. He is almost ten, but same difference, really. I have been really, really struggling with him lately. I love him, but I don't like him much.


Look at those teeth. He swears he brushes them. I think he probably has to use a comb to "brush" them now.

He is trying too hard to be "cool" and failing miserably, at least in my opinion, who knows--maybe he is the freaking "king turd" in the fourth grade??! Maybe they are all like this? Personally, I think it should be perfectly legal for fourth grade teachers to smoke crack supplied by the school district as an incentive to put up with this crap. Anyhooo...he was on a roll, a barrage of those witty one-liners "I know you are, but what am I..."--remember those? He thinks they are original, and I guess he has put his own twist on them--cause he does them in these voices...sometimes a horrid english accent, and other times we are graced with the voice of Stitch. For hours. Enough to make you want to stab your own eardrums with an ice pick just for the quiet.

So, I finally lose my patience and crack, and say "DUDE--you are such a nerd!"

And he looks at me and says "*I*am a nerd? At least I don't wear pants clear up to my waist."

So there ya go. And yeah, my pants might be a little high-waisted for today's standards, but geez, excuse me for needing help holding my gut in. And this observation coming from a kid who wears size twelve slim pants with his belt cinched up 'til the waistband puckers--just to hold them on his skinny nerdly butt.

I used to look that way too--'til I gave birth to him (and the others), I freaking gave him good genes!

But not the nerdly one--that came from his Dad.