Here’s the thing about having a new boyfriend and a kid at home – eventually they are going to talk. First there is small talk – the getting to know you kind of stuff – such as favorite foods, television shows, hobbies, etc. That usually is followed by a variety of conversations that explore both current event and historic data and allow each of them to better flesh out their knowledge of each other. Then, after they are comfortable with each other it is a free-for-all, especially with a chatter like Cheyenne and a willing-to-listen boyfriend like Mike.
And here is where Cheyenne has found her divine moment. Her shining opportunity to get revenge for every embarrassing mom event in the past and to accrue extra credit for any future mom grievances. And all she has to do is talk – with abandon – about every embarrassing story, bad habit or undesirable character trait that she has in her data bank about her mother.
It is absolutely delightful to witness. It is as if one is standing outside one’s self watching while a pie hits you full on in the face in slow motion – and you can’t do a single thing about it.
Cheyenne is masterful at it too…she makes it look as if she just naturally and innocently flows into these little conversation zingers. I know she knows what she is doing though as she stops looking at me when she starts on one of her hot topics (lest the evil eye I am giving her causes her to spontaneously combust on the spot).
There is no point in trying to put the kibosh on the discussion while it is happening – to do so would only confirm for her the power of her weaponery. Oh no…I just have to grin and bear it (and swallow hard on occasion). Never let the enemy know you are wounded and barely hobbling along…oh no – I am not giving her the satisfaction.
At some point though she will have told everything she has to tell and her arsenal will be depleted…and me, well I will just be biding my time until then. She may think she has this wired, but she forgets that she is her mother’s daughter (and mama has some mad, crazy skills that have been marinating over decades). She’ll learn later that her mother’s arsenal can be used on future teachers, boyfriends, friends, inlaws, random strangers, etc. In the meantime though I just grin and bear it and console myself in the knowledge that she will soon get bored with this exercise in mother torture and move on…at least that is what I keep telling myself, but darn it – she is her mother’s daughter. 😉
Day seven hundred and ninety-one of the new forty – obla di obla da