Anyone with a teenager has probably developed a discerning taste for dramatic sagas. Not just any, old run of the mill, poorly planned drama will do. It needs to be a really good one to get your attention anymore, but the simple ones have now become some of the best comedy performances you could get for free.
Like this one: "I am NOT being dramatic", (as she stomps up the stairs), "STOP saying that I'm being dramatic!", (as she slams her bedroom door).
Or the one that played out last night.
Punkin was quite perturbed that we had limited her computer use to FOUR hours. That's THREE hours more than her average day, due to her punishments, (Merry Christmas, Punkin!). She decided to express her unhappiness by putting away the leftovers from Christmas dinner, and cleaning the two tables, and vacuuming the spillage off of the living and dining room carpets.
Hey, wait a minute, I like this temper tantrum!
Okay, so she did the chores angrily. I'll give her that. But it was the events that transpired just a little later in the evening that had me cracking up... internally, mind you... you can't let them see you laugh, or it ruins the whole point, and then the fireworks WILL fly.
Once the cleanup was complete, we all began to settle in for the family movie. Of course, our little rebel announced (angrily) that she had no interest in the family movie, and that she would be in her room.
Okay, fine, but she never made it out of the kitchen.
The previews began to play... she moved like a mist into the dining room and flopped into a chair. But her earphones were on and the volume turned up, as an indication that she still was not interested in spending time with us. I can't pinpoint the exact moment, but I knew that at some point, the mp3 player was turned off... but we weren't supposed to know that.
"What movie are you guys going to watch?" she asked.
"Does it matter?" I responded.
"Maybe." she replied.
"Insidious II" I answered. (I know, it's not the typical family style movie, especially on Christmas Day, but it's our style.
Inch by inch she made her way to her final destination, the overstuffed recliner in the living room, and we all had a lovely time. She had forgotten about having to disconnect from her boyfriend's Skype call, and all about being angry with us. And she thinks I've forgotten all about the temper tantrum, and how it was, first very helpful, and then very funny... keeping Mom in a nifty mood, even though Mom was exhausted at the end of the Christmas Hurricane.
