Oh yes, the plot thickens.
Am I the only one with children that think it is possible to keep misdeeds from a parent? I’m starting really to feel that way.
My wonderful son, bless his heart (the one who belongs to his father and just absolutely can grate on my sensors in much the same way) took my camera to a Scout meeting. Hmmm, I don’t recall giving him permission to do this, but lately he’s been fairly responsible so I thought “It would have been nice if he asked, but I have to trust him at some point”. Well today, this gorgeous, slightly windy, extremely sunny, so beautiful it’s sinful NOT to be outdoors day was/is perfect for taking pictures. I go to retrieve my camera. He has it in HIS room, not on the charger where it sits normally until I’m in the mood to use it (which lately hasn’t been often). I go get it. Turn it on and race to the door to take a picture of the cardinal that has come out, like me, to welcome the impending Spring. Now you know, you can’t get too close to a cardinal (or any wild birds for that matter). I zoom in. Under normal circumstances, from where I am in relation to where the birds are, I can literally count the feathers and rings on the toes of just about any bird that perches. Photo is rather blurry. Hmmm, quite unusual.
So I look at the lense. It certainly couldn’t be the glasses that I have so painstakingly cleaned and wear despite my vanity. THERE IS THE BIGGEST DAMN SCRATCH ACROSS MY LENS . It looks like a crater no no no no, the GRAND CANYON! Oh I am hotter than fish grease. This does not please the DIVA.
So I call him out and ask him to explain why my camera is taking fuzzy pictures and how this gauge ended up across the LENS of all places. He looked at me with his father’s eyes and I swear by all that is REMOTELY holy, said ” I don’t know. What did you do, Mom???” (Oh can he be serious???? It’s rhetorical, but I’ll answer anyway. Yes, he was dead serious. Keep in mind that I haven’t touched my camera in TWO weeks and the last time I used it, there was not a problem with any part of it.
All of a sudden, I saw my dear son, look like his father, talk like his father, BECOME his father. You know his father, the I forgot, I thought you paid that guy. The one who would rather blame the hole in the ozone for his not remembering to do something than to just fess up that he forgot.
How could I berate my baby boy for doing what he comes by honestly? I KNOW he messed up my camera! I know it I know it I know it. And what’s worse is that he KNOWS I know it.
I can’t even do the “Wait til your father gets home”. What for?
Okay, now he thinks all is forgiven (even though he hasn’t admitted to doing anything) because he gave me a hug and has offered to fix dinner. Now that reeks of guilt! Or is it just me?