Oddly speaking, if you asked me about my current life right now, most who know me would be forced to yell, “you just can’t make this shit up,”  which seems like a pretty accurate metaphor for my life as a redhead mom.

Tonight I fixed a five star dinner for my ex husband.  I used to be almost a gourmet chef in my home, but years as a single mom and making monetary choices for my time, and not being in any way interested in proving to anyone my abilities in the kitchen, oatmeal is a stretch now.  I pretty much set the stove on fire once a week, then offer money to Brian to scramble some eggs.

So, when I show up in a kitchen to cook and the fire extinguishers aren’t on open display, next to the stove, we should all celebrate with a glass of a local Sonoma County Zinfandel.

It was my ex’s birthday today and our son wanted to have a dinner for his dad.  He saved some money and wanted to give his dad a watch and have his parents, along with a grandmother all celebrate over a sweet dinner meal.  You’d have to know what charm looks like when best served up from a sweet, slightly shy, blond haired, tall nerd boy who believes every one should just get over themselves and get along.

I said yes, then punched myself.

But

If as a parent we cannot overcome our own selfish tendencies and accommodate such a small wish, then who are we really… to claim we love our children?  I get that it is easier for them if we would all just get along and hang out in one place from time to time.  We once did have sex to create this lovely child, didn’t we?

My dinner kicked ass.

You doubted?

Tender roasted, range fed Teriyaki chicken breasts, steamed asparagus with mayonnaise butter and balsamic vinegar dressing, sweet onion roasted yams; a Sonoma Valley Red and fresh local strawberries. Fresh lemonade for the boy.  My son had water.

My mother made Brian take her for a walk.  My ex loves his watch that his son worked chores to buy.  He still has a lot more chores coming … trust me on this.

I love you Brian, and so does your dad.

C

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

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Saturday night Brian decided he wanted to take me to the movies with the twenty dollars he earned from his grandmother.  Really all he has to do is show up with his cute face and either grandma passes him a twenty, but he did go help her produce shop and all that entails following a grandma around a grocery store.  Slow torture is great for teenagers.

But I digress.

Shockingly, Brian agreed to see Slumdog Millionaire.  It is playing at a older movie theater in town that still remembers what a true movie experience should be.  We sneak in bottled water and Brian’s snacks in my purse.  Brian chose our seats in the back by the wall.  No one sits in front of us.  I realize it has been a while since we’ve gone out together.  Usually he prefers his guy friends and seats in every other row.  He actually sat next to me.  I must make note of this.

Can I say ENOUGH with the 20 minutes of Previews of Coming Attractions? If I wanted to watch a bunch of movie commercials I could have stayed home and watched Comcast On demand.

But I digress yet again.

Finally the movie begins and I wonder what kind of movie ride we are about to embark upon.  I purposely have not watched any movie trailers.  Brian has no idea what the movie is about.  Two of our favorite stories is Oliver Twist and Nicholas Nickleby.  I had no idea we were about to see a modern twist on a Dickens-type story.  We were riveted to our seats.  At one point I covered my face and turned to Brian.  He takes a deep breath, “Don’t watch yet mom.”  Then he whispers what happened.  I look up, lean further in and say, “I now want that man dead.”  “Me too,” Brian whispers.

When the credits move up the massive screen in front of us, signaling the end of the movie, we remain silent in our seats, like we are returning from a magic carpet ride.  The dim lights come up and we look at each other.  “That was the best movie I have ever seen.” Brian says with his blue eyes bright and wide.  “How does it make you feel about your life?” I press,  “I have a great life,” he smiles.  “Yeah, we do Brian.”

He’s studying Anne Frank in English, asking me lots of questions about the crimes on humanity.  I am moved by his concern.  We walk slowly through the rain to the car, as he recites his favorite moments in the movie.  I am savoring his teenage company.  It’s good to see his face not buried in a computer or a game.

Once through the door, he’s on the cell phone to his friend.

Mom time has ended.

Until next time-

C

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

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