Isn't it Ironic

Irony is speaking on the local community TV program about adopting a teenager when said teenager has decided he’s an adult and no longer has to follow the rules, thus left the house last night and didn’t come back.

 

Maybe it’s the impending holiday’s? Maybe it’s turning 18. Lately Primero and I have been on the outs. We weren’t fighting, per se, but we weren’t really getting along either. We’ve sorta been like two pieces of sandpaper, rubbing each other the wrong way. But, last night I decided to put my foot down and what I see as Primero shirking his responsibilities and doing things half-assed. I wasn’t really angry, just frustrated and because all the words I had been saying were not penetrating his brains, I took action. Primero did not take all the trash to the curb yesterday. He took some of the trash (see, half-assing it), leaving trash on our back porch. He refuses to take the trash out the night before, insisting he do it in the morning before he goes to school. Only, he didn’t have time this Monday morning. And, not only did he take half of the trash to the curb (and none of the recycling), he didn’t clean up the trash the dog pulled apart (because Primero put a trash bag with food in reach of the dog), and the trash he put at the curb fell over, spilling it’s dirty contents in front of the van. The coup de gras, was Primero not returning the trash can to the back of the house, which in the past has resulted in fines. I reached Custer-mode, I was taking my last stand. Legal adult or no, this was not going to fly with me. Because, while I attended a parent-teacher conference for Chica Marie and then ran a quick errand to the grocery store, Primero didn’t wash a single dirty dinner dish. I came home and you could stick a fork in me, I was done. Primero wanted to visit his cousin. I agreed. He asked to take the van. I said no, those privileges were revoked for shoddy trash removal. And Primero lit up like the fourth of July. How dare I make him suffer the consequences that have been a long time coming? How dare I refuse to keep letting him do whatever it is he wants to do? And, I don’t pay him to watch the kids or clean the living room, I’m using him! He smirked as I reminded him of the 9 pm school-day curfew. He was going to stick it to me and not come home. Taunting me he yelled over his shoulder, “And I’m 18 now, so you can’t call the police to come find me” as I had done before when he ran away from home. He text me at 11:04 last night, stating he would be home today after school, he was staying with a friend. Like I was his roommate and not his parent! I wasn’t angry until then and the rest of his smart-alec responses and then I was livid. So, assuming Primero comes home today, we need to have a very serious discussion about his intentions. He mentioned, during his anger-filled tirade last night, he didn’t want to be “here” in our home anymore. If that is how he feels he needs to know all the things he will be walking away from because I’m not going to support his half-cocked insanity where he things he gets to call the shots and I can keep paying for everything. No, sir, that is not how the world works. And, if he thinks his stunt last night has persuaded me to soften my stance, he is dead wrong. If anything, it has strengthened my resolve to not raise a disrespectful, irresponsible young man. If he won’t learn responsibility in my home, then he will learn it the hard way. I certainly hope he doesn’t choose the hard way, it would break my heart, but I am also not playing this “I’m 18, I can do what I want” game. Because guess what? I’m an adult too. I can do what I want too. Sigh. Eighteen year olds suck!