Mohawk Boyfriend

This weekend we were treated to a visit from my daughter’s current Boy Du Jour.

Now Ms. MiniD has had countless BDJs in the last year. I’ve run out of fingers and am working on the toes for my abacus. This is because Ms. MiniD is quite attractive. She’s also flighty, ADD, loud and seemingly self-absorbed. The ADD could be the reason why she tires of them quickly and then moves on.

BDJ showed up at the house on Thursday. He had taken the train from Chicago. He lives in California with his family, his mom, a successful character actress of small and large screen (if you saw her, you’d know who she is) and step-dad, a director. They were visiting the older brother and his girlfriend in the Windy City.

My daughter had only been home three days when BDJ came over for a visit. It wasn’t even enough time to let the dust settle on her suitcase.

BDJ endured a five hour train trip, but arrived with plenty of enthusiasm. It is at this point that I’m going to refer to him by his new name, The Mohawk Boyfriend.

That’s because just before he left California, he decided to get a Mohawk haircut. And he doesn’t just have hair, he has red, curly hair.

Lest you think this kid is Goth or some sort of aberrant creep, I will reassure you that he’s far from it. In fact, Mohawk BF is quite personable. He matches my daughter in verbal decibels which is a good thing. Her first two boyfriends were soft-spoken.

He also seems to be quite intelligent, even though his speech is peppered with California-isms like “gnarly.”

He ate everything I put before him, including brussels sprouts, roasted sweet potatoes and asparagus.

The Mohawk BF stayed in my daughter’s room. This was quite upsetting to my husband. Mr. Demonic tends to view his youngest child as a child, when in actuality she is almost 19.

I like the Mohawk BF and told him so. I also warned that my approval is the kiss of death for the relationship, to which he laughed it off.  This is true. My daughter once loved Beanie Babies, but as soon as I expressed an interest, hers cooled. When she got a bird, I found I liked it a lot. Then she decided she didn’t like birds. I liked the first boyfriend and the second boyfriend, but she didn’t like that we liked them so much. I think that’s why she dumped them.

I Take Thee, House, Back into Possession

I just came back from dropping Ms. MiniD off at the airport, and I am giddy with excitement. Please sing after me: She’s going back to college! She’s going back to college!

Now I don’t dislike my daughter, but let’s face it, she’s high maintenance, moody, negative, and a slob. She’s the perfect model for one of the characters in my next book. I won’ t even have to fluff anything up, because the real Ms. MiniD is quite the character and seems to have quite the adventures.

Did we cry at the airport? She didn’t, but I could have when I paid for her checked luggage. $165! And for three bags that weren’t particularly heavy. Airlines are getting rather adept at nickel and diming a person out of their money. You’re lucky if you get free soft drinks these days. I can remember past trips on other carriers where a hot lunch or honest to goodness Subway sandwiches were served. Alcoholic beverages were actually worthwhile. Now they cost as much as the ones in the airport bar. Me, I’d rather sit in the airport bar and get tanked in comfort, rather than drink a $6 glass of wine on a crowded plane.

I’ve yet to go back to the house, because I’m supposed to be working all weekend. (Don’t worry, Little Cat, I’m not visiting the dreaded monster time-sucking Facebook.) I’ll have to clean out the bedroom she was using, and that should take a couple of days. Thank goodness it wasn’t her old bedroom, because Mr. D has that room completed gutted for his long-term painting and wood moulding project. No, we put Ms. MiniD in the microscopic bedroom slash sewing room, where her mess could be contained.

I’m not looking forward to cleaning her bathroom, but I am looking forward to soaking in the bubble tub.

In the meantime, I’m trying to steer Ms. MiniD toward a path of staying on the Left Coast for summer break. That’s because I will likely kill her if she comes back here. You don’t know how close I came in the last week. I love Ms. MiniD dearly, but I told her if she decides to come back, we would be laying down some ground rules first. Like, one, you can’t sleep until 1 p.m. every day. And two, you have to load the dishwasher and clean up the kitchen after you make two boxes of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

It’s funny, but I don’t feel like a bad mom for taking my house back. I feel like a conquering warrior. I feel like Cortez, the explorer. I feel like the peace and quiet and lack of drama will be curiously Utopian.