The Skimmer, Blue Kid and I were sitting in the living room together, a rare occurrence these days. We had just finished up a breakfast of bacon and eggs The Skimmer had made for us. Blue Kid was watching Across the Universe, I was watching it too, stopping every few minutes to read from my new book, Imperfect Birds by Anne Lamott, wondering why I was reading a book about living with a rotten yet beloved teenager when I was living with my own. Reminded me of what The Skimmer used to say to me years ago when I'd want him to watch Thirtysomething with me.
"Why would I want to watch that stupid show? I'm living it!"
When the movie ended Blue Kid said, "We were trying to figure out our favorite songs of all time last night."
I said, "Did you figure it out? What's yours?"
The Skimmer said, "Is that what you were doing? I was trying to name them."
Blue Kid said under his breath, "Ugh, Classic Rock..."
"Yes! And I only got about half. Can you believe that? What is Don't Fear the Reaper called? Just Don't Fear? Just Reaper? More Cowbell?!"
"I think it's just called The Reaper."
"Well, that's stupid. And get this. The ones I got right were, like, Foghat and Lynyrd Skynyrd. What does that say about me?!"
From the look on Blue Kid's face, I probably don't want to know what he thinks that says about me. Although I'll bet he's never even heard of Foghat.
What a dork!
"Mom, the only reason there is such a thing as Classic Rock is because at the time that's all there was and no one had a choice. Because if they would have had a choice, they wouldn't have chosen that."
"Oh, shut up. My music is awesome. It's throwing frisbees, barefoot in the park on a sunny day music. It's driving around with your friends on a Saturday night music. Did I tell you I friended Peter Frampton on Facebook last week? Well, I did!"
BK continued, "Well, I wouldn't have been listening to Classic Rock. I would have been listening to the blues."
"Well, lah-tee-dah for you. Did I ever tell you I caught a frisbee Peter Frampton threw off the stage?! How cool was I?!"
And with that and another disgusted look, Blue Kid ran up the stairs and into his room. I went back to my book, where Rosie, the daughter character, was erupting at her mother once again:
"How stupid are you? You're a joke. Why would you ever think that?"
I paused and thought, BK knows better than to ever come right out and call me stupid or a joke. And then I heard the music he turned up loud, coming from his room.
And I thought, I think I've raised him right.