Not Tonight Sweet Boy

This afternoon, I had a fun, light, funny post all ready to go when I had time to type it out.  After the last few posts, I wanted to lighten it up, and I thought I’d share some miraculous discovery with you.

Then earlier this evening I was cooking dinner and my boy came in the kitchen.  “Mom, do you know where Random Name Speedway is?”

“Yes, Why?”

“Because I think I was just invited to go.”

“Just a minute.  This place is over on the outskirts of town.”

“Yes…”

“And when I was growing up, this place was considered to be shady.”

“Ohhhh. But my friend is going.”

“Yeah, I’m not prepared to send you off with your friend and his dad, to a place I believe to be in the shady part of town, where you could possibly be shot.  There could be gangs there.”

Mr. Fox: BLANK STARE

“Yeah, I’m not prepared to tell your father that I let you go and watch some cars circle around a track, amongst a bunch of drunk fans and you got shot.  So, no.  You cannot go.”

The part of my internal dialogue that didn’t come out of my mouth was that I cannot let him go where there is a Very High Possibility of people there who will be seriously inebriated.

People who are not worldly.

People who are carrying concealed (or not concealed) weapons.

People who will look at my dear boy and not see the resemblance to that famous movie star that so many people tell him he looks like, but they will see that he has his father’s nose and cheekbones.  My boy is fair-skinned and has dark brown hair and an Egyptian profile.

What if they take a look at him and think of the Tsarnaev brothers?  What if they look at him, think of the Tsarnaev brothers and notice that he is wearing a baggy sweatshirt with a hood…and he keeps checking his cellphone?*

So, no.  You cannot go to the race with your friend and his dad.  If you want to go to the movies and see Iron Man 3, absolutely! But the races, No.

*Mr. Fox gets 8 gazillion text messages each day. Most are from the girl down the street.  I thank God every day when I hear his phone buzzing incessantly that we got unlimited texting for him well before he needed it, when it was still available.  Yes, it is annoying, the sheer number of texts he gets, but we are teaching him not to be rude with his phone.  I’ve been assured by my good friend that this amount of texting is not unusual.  Especially for a good looking boy. 😉