The Boy

Will Soon Be Graduating From High School

This means, in some small measure, I have successfully managed to get him through 12 years of school and to the age of 18 alive.

No small accomplishment, that.

Today he called for a ride home after he rode the bus most of the way to our house. As it was about 90 degrees outside, I obliged. I'm a good mom, plus it got me out of a very hot house and into the sweet deliciousness of my air conditioned vehicle.

My oldest and youngest daughters went along for the ride and they spotted The Boy before I did.

"What's up with his pants?"

Indeed. The operative word for his pants was up. He wears those extremely skinny jeans and he'd rolled them up to about knee level and he was walking towards us with a grimace on his face.

He was in pain. You see, five hours earlier, in the throes of near heat exhaustion, he rolled the legs of his pants up and then his legs swelled up. He was unable to remove his own pants or roll down what he'd rolled up.

I attempted, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle.

"Moooooooom, this hurts soooooooo bad"

"I'm sure it (guffaw) does"

So home we went where I attempted to roll down his pants over his heat-swollen legs. No joy.

"I'm going to cut them off"

Oh boy. My son and sharp knives. NEVER a good combo.He got a knife and tried. It cut through a bit of jeans and he came very close to slicing his leg while not managing to do the required damage to his pants. I told him to stop with the knife and let me take him to the fire department. They had tools to cut people out of their clothing---they had to.

He didn't want to go. I told him it wasn't far and they could do it quickly. He rolled on the bed for a moment in pain and then agreed.

My two girls also laughing hysterically, piled into the suburban for the ride to the fire station. I was laughing so hard I could hardly drive.

"Oooooh it hurtsssssssss"

Once we were there, I had to try and maintain my composure as I explained to the nice medic just why we were there. He laughed and said he'd be right back.

He came back with the jaws of life in his hands. The look in my son's face was priceless. His jaw dropped, his eyes bulged out and his face turned bright red.

The medic laughed and handed it to another fire fighter then pulled those cool little scissors out of his pocket and began slicing. Meanwhile, other fire fighters are filing in to see what is going on, and to also catch a glimpse of my oldest daughter. It took some time, but finally both legs were released from their jean tourniquets. Ahhhhh, sweet relief.








As we were leaving, he said he knew I was going to write about this. I thanked him and said it had been some time since he'd given me any material. I was just thankful there were no broken bones, blenders or blood involved this time.

Ahhhh.....sweet release.