August 26, 2013: Uncool
Last week I was flying high and feeling cool. Like a superhero taking on the world, I soared to new heights while increasing the depth of my extraordinary to-do list. And then I went home. To my teenagers, I am so incredibly uncool. Like a cold bucket of reality, my uncoolness was dumped on my head.
If you have ever watched the movie, The Incrediables, my role is Elastigirl...the mom. Superhero (or so she thinks) by day and humble (or humbled) mom by night.
Me: "I closed on a big deal today!"
Teen: "Cool. What's for dinner? Did you really wear that all day? You're a little old for that."
Hmmm. Attempt to be cooler....
Me: "I met some really important people today. You'd find them interesting!"
Teen: "Oh. Like business people? Or people who are actually interesting?"
Done. On to dinner and talk about the cool people they hang with and the interesting things they did all day.
Grant is typically my wing-man. The youngest, he has been untainted to date; still up for my adventures and hanging on to my words of self-professed coolness. Tonight I think he too has crossed into the dark side.
A hot night for football, Grant realized that he left his water jug at his dads. Being my resourceful self, I found an older model tucked in a garage cupboard. After a little clean up and dusting off, this insulated Husker jug appeared perfect for the task at hand. And it had Grant's name carefully printed in my neat handwriting (ha!) on the side.
As I filled the red jug with ice and water, proud of my find, Grant asked if I would take the Husker red thermal off of the jug. Huh? I then explained to Grant that it's the outer portion that keeps the ice water cold. He asked again if it could be removed. "Not on this hot night" was my answer. Grant didn't look convinced.
Pulling up to practice, I was excited to have a turn to drop Grant off. With many drivers in his life, I wasn't given this opportunity yet this year. And then a shocking request. A block from the gate, Grant asked me to stop. Hmmm. He wanted to get out and walk the rest of the way. Then as he pulled his gear from the back, I noted that he took the Husker thermal off his water jug. My cool penmanship on the insulated cover was rejected.
The realization has set in; I am completely uncool to all of my kids now. No more monogrammed lunch bags or cute back packs. No Lane boy will again ask my opinion on cool gear, just shy away from my picks. No hugs at drop offs or waves of enthusiasm when I pick up. I am no superhero by night. Just a mom in the shadows.
<sigh> That's okay, I guess. As long as they love my meatball subs and tell me about their daily coolness, I'll just have to keep my super-cool mysterious adventures to myself.