Punishing Proposals

So I'm at a playdate for the preschooler today and I call home from my cell phone to make sure the teen knows how to get hold of me if he needs to, because the playdate was pretty late in the day and he got home from school not long after we left. And, while on the phone I ask him if he has any homework and he replies, "No. Oh, I forgot to get my notebook signed until halfway through the day."

Then he drops it on me. In a very serious tone he says, "I need to talk with you and Dad about something. Is he going to be home tonight?"

Well, no, as a matter of fact the husband will not be home before the teen goes to bed, because the husband is working swing shift tonight. I tell the teen this, and he says, "Well, OK, I guess I'll talk to you about it then."

Naturally I spent the rest of the playdate wondering what he wanted to talk about, instead of getting to know the mother of the child the preschooler was playing with. Given the juxtaposition with the discussion about homework and the notebook, the conversation would probably just be a matter of trying to talk his father and me into caving in on the "incomplete signature list = no computer" stance. Not that that stopped me from worrying.

First I started wondering if it had occurred to him that he will soon be old enough to drop out of school. I started planning how to explain to him the realities of life without provoking a confrontation. In our family, the reality of life means, no school, no support from the parents. If you're old enough to drop out, you're old enough to pay room and board. Have fun in the adult world!

That was just the beginning. On the way home I started thinking about other possibilities. Had he finally crossed the line so badly in school that he'd been expelled? Was he now flunking every single class? A fight, he might have gotten into a fight. Or - ooooh, badthoughtbadthoughtbadthought - had he gotten a girl pregnant? Never mind that he has no girlfriend. There was that day that he skipped school and then wouldn't tell us where he'd gone. Maybe? Possibly?

(Yeah, I'm really good at coming up with things to worry about.)

I got the answer soon enough. He threw the idea at me not long after I'd walked in the door.

He wanted us to prorate his punishment.

He proposes that we give him 1/2 hour on the computer for every teacher signature he gets, up to three hours a night. Never mind that three hours is the entire evening, never mind that would give him the freedom to ignore those classes he doesn't like - which is the entire reason we started this system in the first place - never mind that he isn't getting any signatures at all right now. Nope, just let him have that half hour for every signature and he'll be a happy camper and cease to give us any trouble.

I own this waterfall in the Mojave desert ...