"Mom!" ....may I go by Trudy or Clarabell tomorrow?

I spent three hours in the car with six middle school boys today, none of whom was my son. He chose to ride on the bus, avoiding any chance of embarrassment or mother-son bonding.

I chaperoned a band competition and transported extra students. Students who actually talked to me and asked questions—I guess it’s just your own mom you avoid.

Upon entering my car, a boy I've known for years said, "What happens in your car, stays in your car." Trying not to smile, I agreed, turning over my radio controls and covertly listening to their conversations. I don’t think that counts as eavesdropping—my motives were pure…I wanted to know what the heck my son and his friends think about.

I’m having lunch with one of the moms next week—I hope I she doesn’t grill me for details…I’d hate to crack under pressure…

After returning all passengers to the middle school at 6:30 p.m., my son informed me that he was staying for the school dance. He called for a ride home at 8:30—my other children, feeling completely neglected today, insisted on joining me for pick-up...

“Mom, do you see an old man screaming?” (My daughter had arranged 4 rubber bands into the likeness of a screaming face...which, albeit clever, had nothing to do with getting in the car.)

“Honey, I’m about to see a mother screaming, go get in the car.”

“Do I have to wear shoes?”

“You’re not getting out of the car.”

“So, do I have to wear shoes?”

“I’ll leave that decision up to you. Please go get in the car.”

“Oh, oh! Can I bring my violin in the car?”

“No!”

“I can play the Can Can…”

“I’d love to hear it when we get home. GO GET IN THE CAR!”

We picked up my 8th grader, arrived home in one piece, and I listened to M’s rendition of the Can Can…may I go to bed now?