Conversations with a teenager

The most interesting conversations take place between a mother and her teenage daughter while driving in the car:

The Daughter (while recounting a story that took place earlier in the day during Chorus): Well, she didn’t really say anything, because she is disabled.

The Mother (who had already heard the story from The Grandmother, but played dumb to see what The Daughter would say): What do you mean? There are many different kinds of disabilities. Is she in a wheelchair? Blind? Deaf? Mentally challenged?

The Daughter: Yes, she’s mentally challenged. That’s it.

The Mother: Ah, I see.

The Daughter (who has Asperger’s Syndrome, which is a Pervasive Developmental Disorder under the same umbrella as Autism): I used to have mental challenges, but I got rid of them.

Then, a few minutes later:

The Daughter: I’m going to get a boyfriend tomorrow!

The Mother: Uh, Megan, you can’t just go out and ‘get’ a boyfriend like you get a new pair of shoes.

The Daughter: Well, I told my friend Tiffany that I like him, and she said he said he’ll see me in second period. Then I can ask him to go to the Homecoming Dance with me.

The Mother: . o O (Oh, I am *so* not ready)

The Mother (out loud): So what’s so great about this guy?

The Daughter: I like him. He’s nice. And he’s funny. I like funny people.

Can’t fault her for that, I guess.

She brought home a permission slip the other day…for a 4 day trip to Myrtle Beach at the end of April for a Choir competition. All I could think about was the last school trip that I went on. I was a 17- year-old senior in high school, and our orchestra was participating in the International Music Festival in Nassau. It was a great trip – a 5-day stay in the Bahamas…the sun, the sand, the blue water, the Booze Cruise, being hit on by a guy with a Bahamian accent and a wedding ring who tried to convince me that he was in the US Navy and that I should take him back to my room, the late evening game of hide-and-seek through the hotel, sitting in the middle of the hallway on the 5th floor of the hotel passing around a bottle of rum (we were leaving soon – we had to get rid of it!)….*sigh*…good times…

Uh…ok, I gotta go. I have a permission slip to tear into shreds! Have a great night all!

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