My children are in love with my SIL - you know, the one who DARED Garth (not his real name) to ask me out on a date - and I can't say as I blame them.  Wayne (not her real name, either) is a fun-loving and engaging adult that kids can totally relate to and...well...all the things I used to be, before children.

Seriously, I've got pictures to prove it - all decked out in gold lame, wickedly high hair and shoulder pads that would make even a line backer look, you know, pretty - and my 23-year-old niece (Wayne's daughter) thought I was cool when she was...um...smaller.

"Yeah, but Aunt Wayne is really awesome and she DOES have a tattoo!"

Three of them, actually, and my favorite being the two lips on her rearend that reads kiss my...uh...well, just ask anyone in the family and they'll tell you, my SIL is...um...well, there IS only one Wayne and it's hard NOT to love her.

Even when she makes your 8-year-old son cry.

"What's the matter, Buddy?"

Last weekend, The Boy asked to go home with Aunt Wayne - because, he likes her way more than me, remember? - and kept my SIL company on the way to a family Christmas party, way up in North Jersey.

"I have [sniff-sniff] something [snort-snort] to tell you."

My husband's cousin lives about a little over an hours drive away - way up in Sopranos Land - and The Boy had a great time spending some private time with Aunt Wayne and rocking out to Charlie Daniels.

At least, that's what my SIL told me.

"I did [sniff] something [snort] really, really bad in Aunt Wayne's car!"

Uh-oh, judging that we ARE talking about my SIL and seeing as I've, you know, driven with her before, The Boy's latest admission of bad behavior could range anywhere from flipping off an inconsiderate driver, to being allowed to say a word on the no-no list.

"I said a curse!"

See, I know.

"I'M SOOOOO SORRY!"

To tell you the truth, I was shocked and NOT by his actually saying a curse word - Holy Hannah Montana, I am his mother - but, The Boy buried his face into the crook of his arm and started to...um...well, let's see.  Okay, if I were to try to string together a couple of words and describe an accurate account of exactly how badly the kid must have felt, a full blown  snot blowing brain numbing bawl, comes to mind.

"Come on, Buddy, it's NOT that bad."

Seriously, I could think of worse things (shuddup, Wayne!) and we ARE talking about a woman, with a picture of an angel, fighting the devil, and the words, "The devil won!" tattooed on her shoulder.

"It's not like you're going around saying it in school, or anything, RIGHT?"

Judging by the vigorous way The Boy nearly shook his head right off his shoulders, h-e-double-hockey sticks, NO!

"So, why don't you just tell me what you said."

It took him a couple of seconds and - only after he blew his nose, twice - I braced myself for the worst, as The Boy finally shouted out.

"Son of a Bitch!"

[eyes go wide]

"Oh, is THAT all...I mean...really?"

Honestly - if you have kids, then you know - The Boy hears filthier stuff walking around in the grocery store and it COULD have been worse.

"Well, now you told me and..."

 

He started BAWLING, again.

"What?"

Sniff-sniff.

"Aunt Wayne said that you wouldn't be mad."

More bawling.

"Well, I'm still glad that you told me."

Cheese and rice, I couldn't believe that The Boy was so upset - I mean, really, it's NOT that bad - but, I was secretly taking pleasure in the idea that he seemed really worried what, you know, I thought about the whole thing.

"But, she told me that, she would NOT tell you, and she did NOT want you, to make me, NOT go with, you know, Aunt Wayne, anymore, unless, I wanted to."

Now, I ask you, how am I supposed to react and, seriously, does he really think that I would ever do that?

"That's when I said, HELL NO!"

Needless to say, he's NOT in trouble and neither is my SIL.

[eyes go wide]

Because, Wayne mom-napped me to Starbucks, last night, and we laughed a week's worth of suckage off when I told her.

"No more Charlie Daniels, evuh!"

The Hubs, however, not so much.

"So, what's the matter with you?"

Seriously, Garth (not his real name) WAS mad as a dog.

"I tried to get on the [censored] Internet, and you're right, it's STILL not {censored] working right, so I told [censored] Verizon that they can [censored] KISS MY ASS!"

Mini-me started with the croup and was STILL awake.

"Son-of-a-Bitch, now how am I supposed to get my letter to Santa?"

And, apparently, little ears really ARE listening.

[sound of crickets]

Well, never mind, she's STILL young, there's time and a whole shopping list of mad parenting skillz to rely on.

[shrugs shoulders]

Besides - judging by my total DISDAIN I feel for Verizon, at the moment - I'm STILL working on an answer for that one.

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