Today, I took Weston to the eye doctor.
Yes, Dad is definitely the preferred parent in the eyes of my 13-year-old.
I understand my young son's need to cut the apron strings. It is an important first step in developing his independence. It is his way of letting me know he is ready to become an adult.
But parenting from afar is not that easy.
Lately, I am experimenting with some new techniques. My latest mothering motto comes from one of our founding fathers. I think it was Thomas Jefferson who said, never use two words when one will do. So, in an effort to become more word-thrifty, I have begun to implement the use of single key words, introducing them strategically into our short conversations. This "going green with words technique" seems to guarantee better results when trying to penetrate the reluctant ears of my headphone-clad son.
But I question the effectiveness of this "woman of few words" maneuver and wonder whether my downsized parenting contributions will have any effect on the behavior of my wanna-be man.
Today, I was pleasantly surprised.
I parked my vehicle as close to the professional building as possible. With a temperature outside of 2 degrees, Weston and I did not want to walk too far. We ran into the lobby where there were several folks waiting for the elavator to return to the ground floor.
"Bing" sounded the bell, and my impulsive son headed immediately toward the door.
"Wait," I suggested in my new minimalist language.
Weston's small act of kindness toward others made me realize that despite my lack of verboseness, perhaps he is his mother's son after all.
But my good feeling was fleeting for as we entered the doctor's office, Weston grabbed a seat by the window and pleaded,
"Mom, please don't sit beside me."