Text Fail

I give Scooter a ride to school every morning. This is how it works: me, Scoots and the baby get in the car. As we head toward the freeway I unlock my cellphone and hand it to him to text the babysitter that we are on our way (we meet midway between my office and her house), I drop off Scoot, then handoff the baby to the babysitter, then go to the office.

THIS morning after dropping off Scooter, I get a text from the babysitter saying "Just making sure I didn't miss a text". I.e. she didn't get the text saying we were leaving, and she's still at home.

Dingleberry wrote the text and forgot to hit 'send'.

So I have 20 minutes to kill with a SCREAMING ANGRY infant in my backseat while the babysitter loads up her own kid and drives to [redacted] to meet me.

ScooterFAIL!

Girls Fail Too

Fail comes in flavors other than Scooter. And yesterday it came in the form of Doodlefail (my 14 year old daughter) and babyfail (10 month old).

Doodlebug was nostalgic for some taste sensation she'd learned of back at the Boys & Girls Club years ago. This something was called "Puppy Chow." She found a recipe, made a shopping list and whippped up a batch of this:

And there it still sits; a big bowl of poo-looking fail. By the way, this is a HALF BATCH. #doodlefail

Baby ate mac n cheese for dinner. Baby stuck her hands in the bowl and made a cheesy mess. Baby needed a bath. Mommy and Baby get in nice warm water. Splash, splash! Baby plays with ducks. Suddenly, a new friend arrives. A little brown friend who likes to float in the warm water. Mommy drains the tub. #babyfail

Scooter: The Gathering of Fail

How do I even begin this tale of woe and fail? Let's try something succinct and easy (for me). Bulletpoints ahoy!

• Scooter says there's a Magic: The Gathering tournament this weekend. Tournament.
• Scooter's friend the Professional Magic Player will be participating. Professional, I say.
• Scooter wants to go check it out. "I'd play, but there's a 30 dollar entry fee" Activate passive-aggressive sadface.
• Scooter does chores for me all weekend to the tune of 30 dollars plus a ride to Games & Gizmos. The Pro MTG Playa is going to give him a ride home, he says.
• I drop his ass off. (After he leaves the address on the table at home) #fail1
  Me: What time will you be done?
  Scooter: Probably at 2.
  Me: It's one. It costs 30 bucks to play for an hour?
  Scooter: Well, I'm new so I'll probably only play the first round.
• Get a text from Scooter: "Apparently it goes until 8" #fail2
• Uh... okay so what? Does he want to stay that long? Does he want a ride home? I text back "So how long do you want to stay?"
• No response. #fail3
• I pick up his sister in Everett and we swing by 7-11 for Slurpees and beef jerky. Since the game place is nearby I send her in to ask Scooter if he a) needs a ride home b) if so what time.
• She reports that it stinks OUTSIDE THE GLASS DOORS and refuses to go inside. We go home.
• 4 hours later I'm getting the baby out of a bath. I diaper her and give big sis the task of jammying her up while I check my phone in case Scooter ever texted back. it's 8:20 by now.
• Text from Scooter at 8:04 "we're done". Text from Scooter at 8:05 "do you think I could get a ride" #fail4
• I leave the baby (who is hungry and ready to be put to bed) with her sister, get dressed, and get in the car, texting Scooter: "on my way"
• I pull up in front of the nerd station, just as this text comes in: "Kk". That's his response to "I'm on my way". I text back "I'm outside".
• I can see him in there with his green tshirt and his puffy hair. He's like six foot two.... not hard to spot. He's douching about, oblivious that I'm out front HONKING THE HORN. #fail5
• I call him. He doesn't pick up. #fail6
• I'm about thirty seconds from busting in there in my shorts, knee socks, dirty tshirt and glasses and embarrass him, when he finally picks up the phone and gets his ass out to the car.

You may be asking yourself a few questions. What happened to his ride home from mister magic pro? He wasn't ready to leave at 8. Why doesn't Scooter have a driver's license? Because he thinks there's no point in having a license if you don't have a car. Why doesn't he have a car? Because he doesn't have a job.

WHY does his mother perpetuate his fail by giving him 30 dollars, dropping him off and then leaving a sweet freshly bathed baby and picking him up while he keeps her waiting? Your guess is as good as mine.

Blerp

The Starving Student

Scooter: I need to buy my books for school.

Me: Okay, as soon as I sell off some of this crack, I'll put money in your account. How much will your books cost.

Scooter: I dunno.

*more failery ensues. 2 days later I give him 400 bucks for text books plus a bus pass*

Me: I got a notice that your account is overdrawn. How much did your books cost?

Scooter: 275. And the bus pass was 120.

Me: okay so why are you 25 bucks overdrawn? What did you buy?

Scooter: Nothing! I don't understand it!

Busted!

There He Is... Miss Popchix

Ground Control to ScooterFail...

Dressed for Success

A year ago Scooter was a high school senior doing his first job interview (at a movie theater). I bought him some snappy yet cas duds as seen here.




Cut to last week.

Scooter: Hey I got an interview at [local Italian restaurant]. It's on Thursday.

Me: Awesome! Do you still have the interview clothes I got you?

Scooter: Yep!


Cut to last night.

Me: Get out your interview clothes and make sure everything is clean and ready for tomorrow.

Scooter: I can't find the pants.

Me: You told me you had them.

Scooter: Maybe I grew out of them.

Me: I thought I just saw them! You're telling me this the day before the interview when all the stores are closed?!

Scooter slinks off to take a dump which is how he avoids things.

Cut to this morning.
Still no goddamn pants. They have vanished into the fucking ether or have been abducted by gnomes with a fetish for Dockers.

Scooter: Okay I got the blue shirt (this is on the phone). Oh, there's a button missing. Oh! There are two buttons missing!

Me: Are you kidding me?! So when you said "Yup, Mom I still have my interview clothes" you really meant that you had no pants and a buttonless shirt.

Scooter: hornk.

Moron in a basket

This is my son

This is my son in a laundry basket

He put it on his head "for lulz" and couldn't get out. He had to sleep in it.

#scooterfail