Yeah, Whatever

Where do kids these days come up with half the crap that comes out of their mouths? If my teenage boys aren't calling me "dawg," they're calling me "dude." What ever happened to my sweet little boys who called me "mama," "mom," or even just "ma"? It is one thing entirely to call your buds "dawg" but another to call your mom that, and I most certainly am not a "dude" (which is evolving into "dudette," which I despise even more).

Ask them to do something, anything, and you hear it: "Yeah, whatever." Turn the music down. "Yeah, whatever." Clean your room. "Yeah, whatever." Put your dirty laundry IN the hamper, not on the floor. "Yeah, whatever." Of course, 3 hours later the music is still blaring, 3 TVs are on that nobody is watching, and laundry is all over the floor, the bedrooms spilling their contents out into the hallway.

I think it is high time to buy myself a scoop shovel, a carton of trash bags, and a big pair of scissors to take care of this on my own. When they see the bags of trash at the end of the driveway and the cords cut off the TVs and stereos and start hollering, I can pertly respond "Yeah, whatever."