Harvest Gold Ford Pinto. Brown Ford Maverick. Red Dodge Ustom Cab (the first letter “C” had fallen off the emblem and it was hanging there, not unlike a dangling participle.) I pretended it was really the “Lil Red Express” style instead….A girl could dream right??
My mom dropped me off at school in these vehicles. I thought I might die. Then once we left our Pinto at a parking lot in town for a couple of days in the summer. We came back and it had been “egged.” In 100 degree temps. Again, I thought I would die of complete and utter embarrassment.
On that note, I would love to have a mustard Pinto right this very moment to drop my kids off and holler out the window…. “BYE KIDS! MOMMA LOVES YOU!” Then I would honk really loud and squeal my tires.
Why you ask? Because. Just because it is fun to embarrass and harass the kids. This morning I dropped off the two older kids at the bus stop. Their little “friends” all gather there, 7th and 8th graders. You know…the “cool” age. The age of embarrassment. The age where you dare not be seen with your parents. On this particular morning I took another way to turn around where I had to go down the road and come back by them . There was a garage sale down the road and I wanted to see if it was worth coming back to after I actually got dressed. So I did, and it was, but I had to go back home, thus driving by them again. I was in my fluffy sleep pants with clouds on them, an old t-shirt with holes, my hair not brushed and my glasses on. Good thing I wasn’t in a Dodge “Ustom” Cab or it really would have been serious business.
So, I swing back by the kids, and as I am living and breathing, the “boy” pretended he didn’t know who I was when I waved to him!! He looked ever so slightly out the corner of his eye and then looked away. HE LOOKED AWAY!!!! The nerve! I mean…what about me, in my fluffy pj pants embarrassed him? Was it my coffee breath? Was it my puffy eyes? Could it have been my choice not to wear underclothes to take him to the bus stop??
And so I got to thinking….why was I embarrassed about my friends seeing my mom? I would go so far as to tell her to pull down the street, not right in front of the school, so I could walk back. She just went ahead and pulled right up front. By the main walk-way. Where all the kids gathered. And honked. And waved. In her pj’s. And I would pretend I didn’t see her.
It wasn’t the just the car. It wasn’t just the “morning” look. It was that it was mom. And when you are in Jr. High, its socially unacceptable to be seen with your mom. To even like your mom for that matter. Which is ridiculous. But it’s true. So now I get it. I see the “boy” mostly doing this with me. Should I wave and honk next time? Or should I spare him….
I’m going with the honk. I may even holler out the window! In fact, I may even wear my robe next time. Hey, at least I’m not driving a Pinto or a Maverick. But I wish I were.
Don’t remember having much fun in those other cars, other than embarassing you but I did love that “Ustom Cab” pickup! Remember how we acted like it was a rocket ship?
Yeah, and I also remember it not having headlights sometimes at night. Driving down 378 in the pitch black.
My sister used to have a baby blue Maverick & she ran off in the ditch one time going down the road digging through her purse!!! I drove my Mom’s old Nova for 13 years & it was the best car, it looked like crap but it ran great!!! I got pulled over in it a couple times in Roland, but when I checked out okay they let me go, guess they thought I was a druggie driving an old beat up car!!!
The dangling participle line cracked me up! I love that age when kids are just way too cool to even HAVE parents. I tell mine that it is my God-given right and duty to embarrass them, so they’d better get used to it.
I’ll never understand the going out in the PJs thing. Sweat pants, yes… PJs? Nope
@team You don’t know what you’re missing. PJs in the car is a thrill. What if I get in a wreck? What if I get a flat tire? Will I make it home without having to get out of the car? Yeah, excitement is a rare thing for me. I’ll take it where I can get it.
My dad had a canary yellow Pinto and it was mortifying to ride in it. It got worse when he was in traffic next to a semi truck that shot tar out of its pipe thingy (you know the pipe with the flap on top of the car?). The Pinto was then yellow with black spots. The happiest day of my young life is when he sold that thing.
I’m totally waving and giving a yell at the kids. My mom did it to me. I’ll do it to them. They’ll thank me for their shared memories of “embarrassing mom” later.
I learned to drive in an orange Chevette. Nuff said.