So then…my teen son Tucker asks me to print a strange attachment. I’m busy on the computer so I just glance at it briefly, but it looks to be an IRS penalty letter and a flight itinerary to New York.
I snort because surely the IRS can’t be hounding my son to pay income taxes for a job – since HE DOESN’T HAVE ONE. (not that I’m bitter and resentful about that at all – not that I sweated my balls off working at Grandell’s Amusement Park in Louisiana’s hot humid heat when I was a teen – not that I think he should fill out a few more applications to be gainfully employed for the summer – cough cough)
So I print the attachment and go on about my business in my home office.
Tucker continues his flurry of activities throughout the house, occasionally calling out a question.
I try not to be a helicopter parent, but after awhile, I wonder if I should be concerned by his inquiries over the past few hours:
“Do we have a Polaroid camera for an instant picture?”
“Can you print out a W2 form please?”
“Where’s my passport?”
“Do we have any balloons?”
“Where’s the duct tape?”
What the hell?
Is he running away from home?
Is he an international fugitive?
Is he taking HOSTAGES?
Am I one of the hostages?
Just now he said, “Don’t come in the pantry, please.”
Trust me, buddy, I won’t.
I continue my phone calls and work emails, while posting some of the above questions on Facebook to see what my pals think. Comments range from:
“I’d go in the pantry if I were you”
“Are you alive? Should we call the police?”
I figure I’d better check out what nefarious activities he’s up to, so I pop in his bedroom and find this:
Tucker’s not there – just a bunch of foreign currency and his passport.
What country accepts euros AND pesos AND quetzals?
Hmm, maybe I SHOULD go see what’s in the pantry.
As I enter the kitchen, I see this:
I die laughing because it appears to be the cocaine serving for a Sweet Suburban Housewife!
Please note the cocaine lines are cut with a BARNES & NOBLE GIFT CARD!
(not a Gold Am Ex card – a bookstore gift card!)
Apparently the cocaine’ll be snorted with a rolled-up BED, BATH & BEYOND COUPON!
(not a hundred dollar bill – a linen store coupon!)
And the baggie containing the cocaine is helpfully labelled, “Cocaine. Keep until June 2016”
That’s exactly how I label all my dry goods!
But I promise you, THIS IS NOT MY COCAINE!
First of all, I’d never tamper with a Bed, Bath & Beyond 20% Off Coupon – those things are like GOLD to me!
Second of all, IS there an expiration date for cocaine?
Third of all, I don’t do cocaine!
I do Ben & Jerry’s.
(which is FAR superior to cocaine)
So clearly, this little scene is my son’s handiwork.
And yes, the “cocaine” is flour.
But it’s oddly gratifying to know that even if my son were the ring leader of an international drug cartel, he’d be organized enough to LABEL his drugs and provide an EXPIRATION date.
I imagine that’d be quite impressive – and a real time-saver – when the cops bust him and take the drugs into evidence.
The last thing you want is a lab tech to stick his pinky in the powder and declare with a grimace, “Tsk, this cocaine’s gone bad” – or for the British cop to shout “Oi! Sarge, come sample da heroin – seems a bit off, don’t it?”
Finally I locate my fugitive – caught red-handed with scissors and a fake W2 form.
“Whatcha workin’ on there, buddy? Somethin’ for your kitchen cocaine?”
“Yes!” he exclaims. “It’s so funny! I’m working on a SnapChat story about a guy whose IRS fines are so huge, he has to turn to a life of crime to pay the government!”
And sure enough, a few moments later, he shows me his SnapChat photos and text which are pretty frikkin’ hilarious!
Of course, it seems a little implausible that someone would obscenely violate drug laws in order to comply with an income tax law – but hey, who am I to question the motivation of the lead character in a fictional SnapChat story?
I’m a mother — and I’m duty-bound to support my son in all his creative endeavors — even if a Bed, Bath & Beyond coupon is sacrificed in the process.
(stifles a sob)
— Darcy Perdu
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(Any creative mini-filmmakers or clever storytellers out there? How about kids who ask questions so bizarre, you’re almost afraid to find out why they want to know? DO you agree Ben & Jerry’s is far superior to cocaine?)