Pre High School Conversations

08.22.13


ME: It’s time for you to drive. This is bullshit.

JANE: [grinning] What kind of car are you going to buy me?

ME: I’m sorry for cussing

ME & JANE [in chorus]: Cussing doesn’t count in bad traffic.

ME: I don’t know. We want you in something safe.

JANE: Jerry said he’s never cut a dead body out of a BMW or a Mercedes. [Jerry is our firefighter neighbor]

ME: That’s a very real possibility but it won’t be anywhere near new.

JANE: [smiling and nodding] I know

And then we see two guys pushing their dead car down the street.

JANE: What about a Hyundai, Kia or a Ford? That could be new, right?

ME: Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too. Maybe something that no one else has driven.

Of course at dinner I bitch and moan about the amount of driving I’ve done this week. You see Jane has volleyball tryouts all week long and there’s no bus service until school starts. The school she’s attending is a 25 minute drive from here and I am not at all interested in being her chauffeur. I mean I am for 5 minutes, it’s the 20 after that which does me in. I’m thinking of a fake ID and maybe a car…

So after I’ve had the Mercedes/Ford/Hyundai/Kia conversation with her we sit at dinner and talk about what’s on tap for Friday. There’s some back to school shopping as she needs a dark suit for assembly days (every Thursday) and then a massage. The massage is for aching muscles and hyperextending joints. She’s played 2-3 hours of volleyball a day plus weight room training all week. If ever a kid earned a massage this is the week for it.

As we’re discussing the day Mr. G says, “A massage? Aren’t you spoiling her?”

And I was about to say, “Yes, I am.” I was going to give him the lecture I give myself about how he and I both make more money when we perform better at work and her currency comes in the form of things like massages and manicures and when she performs well she gets more perks but then Jane beat me to the punch.

“Yes Daddy, I’m a little spoiled but insurance covers it so it’s okay.”

So tomorrow’s a massage day. We’ll have to negotiate the car another time.

 

 

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