You know, as a parent we get used to being a chauffeur. (now why do you automatically assume that I used my dictionary to spell chauffeur? I mean geez, I JUST started this post and already you think I can't spell? I guess you think I wrote 10 versions of the word trying to get it right. ....ok, you're right. You'd be amazed how many ways a person could try to spell chauffeur and STILL not get it right!) Say the word...Show-fer. Now obviously that's not correct but whoever decided to choose chauffeur as the spelling was just plain cruel (and yes, Sue J, I 'm sure there is a logical reason). The way it is spelled looks like you would pronounce it Chaw-fee-your.
Losing Focus....Monkey's are funny.
You know, as a parent we get used to being a chauffeur. It comes with the territory. Then, when your child reaches that magical age and gets their driver's permit, all of the sudden there is a huge decrease of time you spend in the car. As I have said, it is scary watching them drive away but over time, without even realizing it, you begin to enjoy it. It's also convenient if you need milk or something while you're in the middle of fixing dinner and they can run out and get it for you. If they want to go to a friends house or have a friend over....sure....no problem, off they go. Also you notice that your gas tank isn't running on empty so often.
THEN EVERYTHING CHANGES. I believe I called them the driving "mishaps". Such as my posts STEP AWAY FROM THE CAR and STEP AWAY FROM THE CAR...AGAIN.
(There it was, my perfect chance to try to make it so you could easily link from this post to the one I'm referring to. Chatty Kelly came over, she showed me how to do it, we practiced, I took notes, I FOUND my notes.....IT'S NOT WORKING!!! I can't figure it out. Well, you all just read those other posts anyway.....and Chatty Kelly "I guess I broke my fishing pole....you need to teach me how to fish AGAIN!"---please)
monkey's are funny, monkey's are funny
Well, I got spoiled. I am a chauffeur again. I especially loved this one, "Mom, can you pick me up from Travis's house?" ("Sure" I say and drive to Travis's). "Hi mom, can you take me home, take me to work and then take HJ to his house?" (HJ, by the way, is climbing in the car as he is speaking). AND THEN THE KICKER "oh, and mom, after I get off of work (10:00PM & I have to pick him up) since you'll be out anyway, can we go back to HJ's house and pick him up so he can spend the night at our house?" "And oh yeah, I love you mom." (lucky save on his part).
I compromised. HJ came with us, we took JM to work at 4:00. HJ went to the grocery store and post office with me (he was probably miserable...hee hee), then HJ came home with us (Alberquando and I) and spent the evening at our house. I told him to make himself at home (he's here pretty often anyway). He could watch tv, get on the computer, play video games, play the guitar or hang out it JM's room. He was fine. He relaxed. But he was SO glad when it was time for JM to be home.
One of the definitions of the word "Chauffeur" is "A person employed to drive a car or limousine that transports PAYING passengers". It's time to get tough.
"Who going to pay for the gas?"