Revenge

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4.Aug.2002

“Revenge is a dish best eaten cold”
~Old Chinese Proverb

I was just informed by my thirteen year old that I’m not cool. Although this came as no surprise to me, as I have suspected as much for the past 10 years or so, I discovered that I’m also the cause of her friends being freaked out and for her not having an active social life. She didn’t actually say ‘active social life’ as that would not sound cool. She used different words, but the meaning is the same. All roads uncool lead to me, her mother. The reason for her most recent boundary testing is the fact that I won’t let her have a boy in her room with the door closed. The very fact that I’ve let a boy IN her room at all has made my Father nearly apoplectic.

I only allow this because we don’t have a family room. If we did I would let her take her friends in there to watch their DVD’s and listen to their music. I believe that at 13 she should be able to entertain her friends without having them climbed upon by her six-year-old and three year old sisters. If they were to be in the living room or the kitchen, the being-climbed-upon part is a virtual certainty. Oh, and the boy is just a friend. Mm—hm. So was my current husband until he wasn’t just a friend. Hence my open-door policy.

I have come up with a brilliant plan. Like most brilliant plans, this will take some, er… planning. It will take time and cunning. Luckily I have plenty of both. The plan, however, won’t come to fruition till Stephanie herself has a teenage daughter. It requires a video camera and about 20 years. I will be able to reflect upon this plan each and every time my daughter inundates me with yet another barrage of how I’m ruining her life and all her friend’s mothers let them get belly button rings and become unwed teenage mothers! It will put a smile of contentment on my face as I weather all her charges of unfairness, uncoolness and how-could-you’s!

The plan is to secretly video tape my daughter during her next tirade about my uncoolness as a mother. Her opinions on how it’s ok to have boys in your room with the door shut and how everyone else’s parents let THEM do it AND they get to stay out until 11:00 at night while HER curfew is 10:00 in the summer. I’m going to have to do some sound adjustment on this because her exuberance about the righteousness of her cause tends to lend itself to alta voz. I don’t want any fuzzy sound on this tape, it must be crystal clear. After all, it has to survive for approximately 20 years or so. Hmm, and so do I. Where are my calcium supplements? Ok, where was I?

Ah yes, my diabolical plan. It’s to present this video to my daughter and her teenage daughter about the time my granddaughter is testing her boundaries on a variety of issues. I will be the wrinkled, wizened old woman rolling around on the floor cackling, while my daughter is mortified and my granddaughter will be pointing at the video saying, “See? See? YOU EVEN SAID IT WAS OK!!” If, heaven forbid, I don’t live to see this day in the flesh, I will go to plan B. Plan B is to place this tape in the care of my lawyer. Should I not be alive when my daughter’s daughter is thirteen, my lawyer will make certain the tape is delivered to her. I shall put a small addendum on the tape. It will be me, and I’ll record something along the lines of, “remember when I told you I hoped you had a daughter just like you? Well honey, the day is here, even if I’m not. But you can bet that wherever I am, I’m thinking about this moment and laughing my head off. Happy parenting honey!” Then some laughter, and fade to black.

Oh I can’t wait. Normally I don’t wish for time to fly, but in this case I’m going to make an exception. They say that revenge is a dish best eaten cold. Well baby, this one is going to be so cold it’s going to burn.

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