Since I have been in training 7am to 3pm, I am not able to drive the boy to school so he has been staying with his father.
The first week was glorious. Quiet and uneventful.
Saturday night the boy and his friends were going to go to the exhibition. I worry sometimes about his friends, but he said he was going with Milhouse (not his real name), so I was relieved.
From a parents point of view, Milhouse is an ideal friend. His parents are the sort that appear diligent in what he does and who he does it with. He has not ever been in trouble (that I know of), he is polite and does well in school. In short, he is what we believe to be a good influence on our children.
So that was the plan for Saturday night. Imagine my surprise when I get a call to come and pick up the boy. At the police station. He has been picked up by the police for drinking underage. Fuckin' lovely.
All the way to the police station I am imagining him staggering around, or passed out in his own vomit. However, when I get there he and his friend 'Otto' (again, not his real name) are just sitting there. They look normal. WTF?
The cop starts to explain how the boys were picked up at a convenience store. I expect him to tell me that they were acting like delinquents and causing a disturbance, but no.
"Ok, wait a minute. What exactly did you do?"
Turns out they drank something called a cold shot. Basically it is a smaller can of beer than the regular size, about 8oz. So, they had two of them, then went to the convenience store.
They are in the convenience store and the cops come in. Picture it, your a teenager who has just done something illegal when a cop is suddenly standing in front of you. Non challant is not something teenagers do well.
So, of course, they are acting suspicious. The cop comes up to them and asks them if they have been drinking, and Tony Soprano says, "Yes."
As the cop is telling me this, I am trying hard not to shake the boy and say, "Dude? What the hell?" I don't know who this kid is sometimes, he confesses to everything. Must get that from his fathers side of the family.
Then the two of them come out with, "It's peer pressure."
"Oh, don't give me that bullshit."
"It's true, Mom, these guys pressured us into drinking."
"Oh, ya. I remember being a teenager and pressuring other kids to ... DRINK BEER THAT I PAID FOR! That is horseshit! Wait a minute. I thought you were supposed to be with Milhouse? What happened?"
"Milhouse ditched us." And I am thinking, he didn't want to associate with you two delinquents when the cop chimes in.
"Milhouse? Hmmmm, what is Milhouse's last name?" I tell him and he starts flipping through some papers. "Uh huh, we picked up Milhouse 2 hours ago."
"There must be some mistake."
"No mistake, you want to see what we took from him?" And he takes me aside and shows me. It's a hash pipe and some marijuana!
"Are you kidding me? Not my little Milhouse!" I was floored.
Out of the whole experience, I was most traumatized by Milhouse. Somehow I expected it from the boy and his other delinquent friend, but Milhouse? He had me completely snowed.
I am scarred for life.