Tuesday, May 1, 2012

just walk away

I've always been good at walking away. It runs in the family.

The thing that sets me apart, that makes me different from them, is that I always come back. Almost immediately.

Sometimes I think that makes me better than them. Mostly I just think it makes me weak. 

I've never been very good at walking away from an argument, especially when I know I'm right. The Fine Young Man (formerly known as The Boy) likes to fight with me. Or rather, he likes to piss me off. There's not really a lot of fighting. It's mostly just me yelling. And him standing there, taking it, because he knows he's wrong. 

Then I feel bad and he feels bad and The Husband feels bad and even the dogs feel bad. And then he does it again. 

The Fine Young Man (or Little Shit depending on when you ask me) tends to lie. A lot. About some of the simplest, stupid things. 

There is nothing that will send me into a rage worse than lying to me. My rages are very unladylike - violent explosions, expletives flying like shrapnel, intent on wounding whoever is within the blast radius. This is not new. 

I've often wondered if The Boy has a need for self-punishment. He seems to refuse to let us live in peace for long. This time it was over $40. He spent it. Swore up and down he still had it. Replaced it with money from his savings. He thought I would never find out. Am I pissed he spent the $40? No. I knew he would, that's why I kept asking him if he had. I'm pissed that he lied to me. Repeatedly. Again. 

And of course this comes just a few short weeks after he was caught lying about having a girl over at the house. Repeatedly. Again. 

This is also after I finally gave up asking about school work, in an effort to remove things for him to lie to me about. I've also been giving him more freedom, hoping that my good faith effort would be rewarded with some honesty. 

I always hope. Repeatedly. Again.

I can't trust my own son. At all. And he's my son so it's not like I can just walk away. That's what sets me apart, what makes me different from them. 

1 comment:

  1. I was stunned the first time that my daughter lied to me. She was nine. Now, she is nearly 13 and I suspect that she lies to me a lot more often. I hear this gets pandemic when they are in their teens.

    Ai yi yi....