I stepped out of the ladies room at the college student union and the small knot of men waiting across the hall near the bulletin boards turned.
“Reggie,” my husband simultaneously motioned me over while poking our second son in the ribs, “come here. He has something to show you.”
The knot of men parted. Silently my son pointed to a paper tacked to the bulletin board. I didn’t need to read past the words For Sale. The picture said it all.
“No.”
The knot of men erupted in laughter.
“But…” my son began.
“No!” I said again and turned on my heel, leaving the laughing men behind.
We’d had this discussion regularly since my son turned fourteen. He wanted a motorcycle. I was adamant: “You can have a motorcycle when I’m dead!”
My husband, who’d reluctantly sold the motorcycle he’d wooed me on in college only after this second son was born, would occasionally risk my wrath by taking our child’s side. He’d quickly back off again. I’m normally a mild-mannered person, but when it came to the idea of my child straddling one of those organ-donor-makers I was immovable.
Unfortunately for me, my son was turning eighteen in a few weeks and because he’d been mowing lawns all over town for years he had financial resources. Our discussions about transportation had taken a worrisome turn lately. They’d gotten suspiciously short. He no longer pleaded his case. He simply stated his desire and when I said no gave me that look I’ve become so familiar with after twenty-something years of marriage to his father. Quiet determination. I knew it was only a matter of time. One day soon, after he turned eighteen, he’d go to the bank and come home on a motorcycle.
And so I did what mothers have done for centuries when faced with the coming independence of a man-child and the inevitable loss of motherly authority. I lay awake at night…and plotted against him. (Bad Mommy!)
Motorcycles are symbols of freedom. They’re powerful, sexy, cool…and dangerous. What other form of transportation, I asked myself, embodied those same things? The answer was obvious: a convertible.
At first I resisted. I wanted a different answer. A convertible just wasn’t the armor-plated tank of safety I wanted my child driving. But at least, unlike a motorcycle, it had sides. So finally, reluctantly, after much fretting, I knew what I had to do.
I spoke to my husband. My husband spoke to our son’s godfather, Uncle Cam – one of the most generous men I know. Then my husband spoke to my son. My son called his Uncle Cam. Now Uncle Cam has a sleek new convertible in his garage and my son has his Uncle Cam’s old one.
And everyone’s happy.
Well, almost. If I could just get my son to wear a helmet…
Do you ever plot against your child – for their own good of course? Share your stories and comments by clicking on the number near the title of this post.
LOL! Regina, I BOW DOWN to your cunning ingenuity!! While my family is sleeping, I plot at night Too! But not nearly as effective as you, I should add. Mostly I just worry.
I think you compromise was absolutely brilliant!!
Aimee
PS okay, I’m learning the automatic corrections provided by my iPad are a bit annoying. Randomly added capitals and such. Sheesh. Although the emphasis on bowing down in the face of your awesomeness, Regina, was all me.
And the convertible has airbags? Right? Motorcycles make me nervous. My son (17) talks about them and points them out when he sees them for sale on the side of the road, but he’s never seriously (at least in my opinion) approaced the topic of actually buying one. I’d pull the: “You want a motorcyle (when he’s 18)? Fine. You pay for your own gas, insurance, and college.” That’s how strongly I feel about that!
And it’s a mothers job to plot against childrens’ bad choices. I think you done GREAT!
While it’s not necessarily a bad choice, any plotting suggestions for a mom dealing with a junior in high school who has his heart set on attending a private college that costs just under $50,000 per year? – (for 7 years since he plans to go straight through for his doctorate in PT.)
I applaud your creativity!! What a great way to plot! Instead of losing your temper, making him feel guilty, and pulling out all the stops, you used ingenuity and sheer creativity to outdo him. BRAVO! Funny your post is about motorcycles. My husband has been begging me for months now to get a used one. He took his license test on the sly. I keep telling him I cannot lose him because I will kill his children if I do this alone, but so far he’s not listening. Hmmm, a convertible would be nice….
Ingenious compromise. And maybe, with any luck, he’ll get a girlfriend who hates the top down because it messes her hair. Can’t say my children have forced such drastic measures as of yet, but I’m taking notes.
Hi Tara!
Very funny about the messy hair angle! And we’re happy you’re taking notes. We hope whatever we have to offer helps! But your children are so adorable (thank you Facebook) I can’t imagine them giving you a moment of trouble!
Hi Tara!
He does have a girlfriend. He took her to the prom in the convertible last weekend. I’m betting she was glad not have to try to straddle a bike in an evening gown. lol.
Hi Wendy,
Yep, you bet that convertible has airbags! I made sure of it!
Hmmm, ideas for dealing with a teen who wants to go the private (expensive) college route… Selling a kidney? Treasure hunting in the South Pacific? Acting very odd during prospective student campus tours to discourage the college from accepting him? Will think on it…
Thanks, Amiee!
I think my effective plotting in this case was born of pure desperation. Despite the fact I spent a few years in college hanging on to my boyfriend (now husband) on the back of a motorcycle, the idea of my kid on one scares me to pieces.
Oh, Jen, I feel for you with a husband lusting after a bike. Mine had a bike for years before the kids were born. And I admit, I totally loved it! But that was before I gave birth and my mothering genes kicked in.
My husband’s brother and cousin (whose children are all grown and out of school) belong to a motorcycle club (the mid-life crisis kind, not the drug gang kind) and travel all over the U.S. on their bikes. Their wives follow along behind in a comfy RV.
They’ve tried to lure my hubby into getting a bike and joining them. I told him he has to wait until I don’t need him anymore. Which means he’ll be waiting forever!
You crack me up, Regina!
Well, that almost seems diabolical.
I’m sure he loves the convertible though.
Hi Charlie,
Thanks for stopping by. Yep, mom and diabolical just might be synonyms.
Now how could an eighteen-year-old guy turn a cool convertible down? Smart and evil.
I’ll be following in your footsteps Regina. Although I don’t think my PT convertible is quite as masculine as a mustang. But maybe I can get him to see the value in the mpg difference!
Cleverly written, Regina, but I don’t think you were plotting or being diabolical. I see a definite win-win situation here. You got what you want: son not on a motocycle. Son got even better than he wanted: a cool convertible to take his date to prom in. (Now that’s another whole can of worms.) Love this blog. Marsha
And it’s a red convertible!
I really enjoy it, and while I was on the other side of the motorcycle thing, I didn’t realize there was any diabolical plotting.
It’s a sweet car though and I’m happy to have something for college later. Maybe a motorcycle later down the road…
You did good, mama! I think I’d do the same in your shoes.
When my DH turned 30, I wanted to get him a great gift, something memorable. So I found a place nearby where he could take his motorcycle license since that’s something on his bucket list. His parents happened to be in town for his birthday and I apologized to his mother after giving him his gift! Thankfully, he got really busy at work and hasn’t been able to take his lessons! Whew! God help me when he’s got some downtime!
Hi Heather,
What a beautiful blog you have! You are a good wife to help your husband line through an item on his bucket list, and a brave DIL to give it to him while his mom was in town. lol!
Hi Clover,
Great to see you here! You did such an awesome job when you guest blogged here at Four Bad mommies last month. You are such a great mom with such a great sense of humor!
Motorcycles, convertibles!!! The wind in your hair (I used to have hair), is a wonderful feeling. I’ve had both and enjoyed them immensely. The better part of having a convertible is not so many bugs in your teeth. Still there’s not a better thrill than having an engine on two wheels between your legs and nice feminine arms holding onto you from behind. I think the convertible will suffice for a while but be ready to do some more plotting because the motorcycle idea won’t go away.
Great post and pic!
Hi Kym!
A PT convertible will make your son and, when he goes to the gas pump, his wallet very happy. When I was in high school my friend Sharon had a VW convertible and we all loved to pile in that car and cruise! Your son is going to be guy with ‘the ride’!
Hi Marsha!
You are right. Just the word prom can fill the mother of a son with worry and the father of a daughter with the desire to load a shotgun. Just kidding. My son and his girlfriend had a good time and no shotguns (as far as I know) got loaded at anyone’s house.
Keith! Don’t even think about it! A motorcycle later on down the road? Repeat after me: I can have a motorcycle only after my mother is dead – maybe.
Good job Regina! My 31 year old daughter has recently started talking about getting a motorcycle – I have no idea why. I’m hoping she doesn’t.
Hi Karen,
Maybe there’s something in spring air that makes people start thinking about motorcycles. Although autumn probably does it as well. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you that your daughter decides on a backyard hot tub or an Alaskan cruise or something else besides a motorcycle.
Steve said: “I think the convertible will suffice for a while but be ready to do some more plotting because the motorcycle idea won’t go away.”
Oh, no!!!! No,no, no!