Every once in a while, I am reminded that I did not raise Chrystal. Today was one of those days. Today just happens to be her mother’s birthday anniversary: 49 years ago my little sister was born. May 15, 1959.
The first reminder that Chrys is not my child came in a statement about the weather. “Was today the longest day of the year?” she asked. Don and I looked at this alien-child. “What? Did I say something weird?” Gee, not at all, Chrystal: today is the 15th of May, about five weeks before the first day of summer. That it is suddenly over 80 degrees (after an unseasonably cold spring!) and the sun (that is the name for that strange orb in the sky, right?) was out half the day does not make it the longest day of the year. (And, technically, all days are somewhere around 24 hours long. Just the summer solstice is the longest daylight hours of a day.)
The second reminder came when she started to tell us about her new “friends”. Well, not “friends” exactly, but people she “sort of met.”
“Those are called ‘acquaintances’,” I pointed out.
“Well, they’re just my ‘buddies’”, she retorted.
It’s the guys from Jiffy Lube. She walks past The Oil Change Place on her way to her firend’s house and the guys stand outside the building and smile at her or wave.
“Boors.” I said.
“Something-heads,” Don said.
“Well, they wave at me,” she said.
“They think with their little heads,” I said.
“Maybe their little heads are smarter than their big heads,” Don said.
“TMI!!!!” Chrystal said (Too Much Information)
“Well… What did you THINK?” we said in unison, “That they’re out there smiling and waving because they want to listen to you talk? Know who you are?”
HELLOOOOOO.
Don said, “Think construction workers and wolf whistles.”
I said, “Boors.”
She said, “What is a ‘boor’?” and “I prefer to think of them as my little buddies.”
Whatever. “Apemen. Cavemen. Neandertrhals.”
“Gee, you don’t like them, do you?”
Gee, Chrystal, I don’t like ANY man who stares at a woman just becuase she had boobs. And I’ve dealt with the Neanderthals behind most automotive service desks. And those Neanderthals in particular.
“Your tires need rotating.”
“I know. They’re Les Schwab tires. Les Schwab can rotate them.”
“It will only cost $20.”
“It’s FREE at Les Schwab.”
“Well, if you want to wait three hours…”
“Let me repeat myself slowly so you understand: IT IS FREE AT LES SCHWAB.”
Took Les Schwab twenty minutes or less to rotate my tires and it was free. Saved me a whole $20. And the guys at Les Schwab didn’t try to tell me my oil needed changing. Or my air filter. Or my anti-freeze. Or whatever.
Chrystal never “got” it. She’s from a differnet generation and a different childhood. She doesn’t understand the concept of Neanderthals and ogling. She’s certain that the guys at The Oil Change Place are standing out there smiling at her because she’s cute and sexy and the only girl they wait for. Yeah. Right. And they really want to know your NAME, too. And your IQ.
See, if I had raised her from an infant, she would know her IQ is more important than her pretty smile. Some days, I want to bop my sister in the head – if she wasn’t already dead. So – Denise – here’s your 49th birthday present: a bop in the head. Probably a good thing you’re too dead to feel it.
Ah, the innocense of youth. Don’t you wish there was a way you could just make them understand? There are teenagers that I work with that I would just like to say, “Why can’t you see this?” Hope she sees what you mean soon. :^)
Kandy
Thank you Kandy – Actually, she is a lot better NOW than when she came to live with us seven years ago. But I do worry that she will just not have that inner warning system… Kids!