Let Freedom Ring

Before we jump right into why too much education is a bad thing/my son becoming emancipated, I want wrap up a few details from last week.


I told you how I didn't know what a long-form birth certificate was and that I didn't care enough to look it up.  I also told you that there was no way Husband would be able to resist.  Bingo!  Big win for us.  After I posted on Friday, he e-mailed me with the answer (and called me a smartass - go figure).  Here is the answer:

A "Certificate of Live Birth" is the long-form birth certificate and contains more detailed information, including signatures of doctor(s), witnesses, vital statistics (length and weight), etc.


I don't know about you guys, but even with the information, I don't really care that much.  I heard Obama put a sticky note on the long-form before he handed it over.  It said something  about where the Birthers could put the birth certificate after they looked it over.  Okay, I didn't really hear that, but I bet Obama told Michelle that he wished he could have done that.

The Party totally hearts fun.
On occasion.

Other business was that Husband didn't really care for the name Husband.  After some discussion and mulling, I am going with The Party.  It is an actual name we sometimes call him.  Part teasing, part true.  The Party is a somewhat reserved guy (funny and nice but not generally as effervescent as myself), but every so often he will have a few drinks at a social occasion and then he is Mr. Fun, aka, The Party.  So, we'll see how he likes that instead of Husband.


Most importantly is the matter of Boy insisting he is going to get the ACLU to help him file for emancipation because we are infringing on his 1st amendment right to freedom of speech.   I am telling you, that kid better get an "A" in history.  First, I am mean like Hitler, then I am a fascist in general, and now he feels he should be able to say whatever he wants without punishment.  I told him incendiary speech is not protected.  He told me I made up that word.  Why can't he pay attention in a class that won't cause him to annoy me, like math?  Or lunch.

This is why children have
to stay with their parents
for so long.  They're
slow learners.

Boy has spent the last week letting his grandmothers know how good his life will be once he is free from our tyranny.  They, like I, asked him how he would afford to live if his parents aren't supporting him.  He is planning to use the college money that has been put away for him.  Bahahahahaha!  Good luck with that.  How much food do you think you can buy with imaginary money?


Anyway, pretty much anything I or The Party does is annoying, rude, wrong, embarrassing and/or worthy of disdain.  Unless he wants something.  When Boy needs or wants something, then he's all nice and can't imagine why we don't want to jump right up and take care of it.  He's incredulous that we are finding him unpleasant to deal with and really can't imagine why we feel that way.  Honestly, did someone drop him on his head as a baby and not tell us?


Despite seeking to be legally independent from the oppression that is life, he is still bucking for a car when he turns 16 next week.  And let me clarify, he means a car paid for by us, his parents who are an ongoing burden for him.  Did this kid just meet us?  I am sure even you people, who don't know us, can guess the chances of a car showing up here next week.

Nothing says 16th
birthday present like a
 Patrick Henry t-shirt.

Inasmuch as we are dealing with a teenage boy, I am sure the effort involved to become emancipated, or subsequently take care of himself, is far less appealing than just being a nudge and threatening legal action.  It is a good thing Boy is so cute and that he is still letting me hug and kiss him good night.  Those are the only two things that are keeping me from getting emancipated.  I mean don't I have some rights?  Isn't there something in the bill of rights about cruel and unusual punishment?  Yeah, pretty sure there is.   Isn't having to parent a surly teen violating that?  Wait until I find the ACLU's number.  Then we'll see who's in trouble.