“Hey mom, I need to work on a group project tonight,” grins my seventeen-year-old son sheepishly.
Ding. Ding. Ding. I suddenly sit up straight at the dinner table. Oh bad, bad word! I hate group projects with a vengeance.
I think of vacations ruined by supposed “friends” who dumped all their work on my kid, who then dumped all their work on me. I remember the Palm Springs trip where our entire family stenciled, cut and pasted presidents onto a behemoth poster board instead of frolicking in the pool.
“What is your part?” I inquire with dread.
“I have to make a Vine about Mother Teresa. I need the girls to help. Give me some ideas mom.”
“How about dressing up little Kolby and having her feed a homeless man with leprosy in Calcutta. Then he can get up and dance.”
My freshman daughter moans, “Mooooom….that is so not funny.”
Kyle strokes his mini-beard deep in thought. “Its a start mom, but I need to embellish.”
My pride pricked by my daughter’s snarky rejection, I throw up my hands and stomp over to the sofa. “Fine, I’m out. Make sure to finish the dishes when you are done with the video.”
The kids run off. I hear giggles from the front porch. Kolby rushes by enveloped in a black tablecloth. I get bored, give up my mini-fit and end up clearing and washing all the dishes anyway–further confirming my enabling mothering status.
Finally, after an hour plus of filming, I get Kolby ready for bed and tuck her in with stories and kisses. I hear Kyle downstairs grumbling and editing his masterpiece.
In the morning I ask to view the Vine.
Let me get this straight. Mother Teresa (aka Kolby) gives wads of cash to a homeless farmer from central Mexico wearing a sombrero. And then he Whip, Nae, Naes.
It’s so wrong, it’s right. Irreverent? Stupid? Hillarious? Check, check, check.
Ok, kids…that’s funny.
Of course he get’s an A on the project. I think even Mother Teresa would laugh at this one.
