P.I.T.A.s and no, I am NOT talking bread again.

As you youngun's are trippin' through  life, (going to school (unless like me, you wait until you are ANCIENT to do so), getting married (unless like me, you do that BEFORE you go to school), hopefully, you only do it ONCE (unless like me, you try to perfect it over and over), then you have children, maybe one or two (unless like me, you do this numerous times), raise them (with Mom and Dad in same home) (unless like me, you end up not being able to stand your kids dad, then you boot dad to the curb)), I want you to appreciate all the good things in life. Namely P.I.T.A.s. AKA your CHILDREN.

By the time you have accomplished all of this, you are in your forties, early or late (unless like me, you have two  sets of kids, so you have one set raised by your early 40's and the other set raised by the later 40's). (Ya know I  COULD have named this UNLESS LIKE ME. .)

Life actually begins to feel pretty good about now. Actually it is pretty great. If you have children still at home, they are old enough to be fun, ya know the teen years. Ok, who am I kidding? Teen years are NOT fun. They are a ROYAL P.I.T.A. And NO! I am NOT talking about the bread! I guess the 40's  are the upward climb of THE Hill. You really can't wait to the the PITA's outta the house! Even the ones you normally get along with become a PITA.

My youngest, who normally we get along famously, became a PITA his Senior year in high school. He turned 18 in February and informed me that he no longer needed my signature on his report card, or anything according to the school, that he was now responsible for himself.

Alriiiiiighty. So does this mean that you are going to start paying rent, and gonna start contributing to the payment of utitlities and a portion of the HUGE food bill?  THE ANSWER: uh, well, uh, no? So does this mean that now you will pay your cell phone bill on time to me? Since it IS on MY bill? Or the car  insurance? Since it IS on MY bill? Oh, so you don't have to tell me if you are going to be late? WHAT? You're upset because the keyless deadbolt is turned. hmmm. not my problem. Sooo and on the list goes.

We got it straightened out. It  was called R E S P E C T. I will respect you if you respect me. It is a two way street. I am a PRO. I have 30 YEARS on you, you little PUNK. WATCH ME. He tried me, he saw stars. He got the message and all was good.

Yep, a PITA. And you can bet your bottom dollar that when he moved out, I was so happy. Oh yeah, oh yeah. I did the happy dance. Uh Huh!! Yeah, right. I  bawled like a big ole titty baby. AND he had moved soooo far away. ACROSS TOWN. 20 miles. Ditz.

Anyway, that was 5 years ago, and he is back. Of course, he is back to help me out. Guys just don't move home on their own. They come back to help out their poor, decrepit, ancient, blurry visioned, arthritic, overweight, can barely get around, mom, who can still sucker punch him in the jaw if he doesn't act right.

Hope you kackled today.