Today we celebrated my son’s birthday with a trip to Universal Studios, albeit a month late. He brought one of his best friends and they settled in the back seat as I acted as chauffeur. Turning fifteen means very shortly they will be vying for the keys of any available vehicle but so far, they have shown little interest in getting their driving permits. This suits me just fine not only because I worry about the risks of teenage driving, a very real danger, but because the ensuing backseat conversations and banter has throughout the years provided the most incredible entertainment ever. I don’t know what subjects girls discuss, but as far as boys go, you can be sure there will be ample mention of flatulence, gross jokes, innuendos about their friend’s sexual apparatus and great deal of ribbing and trash talk. Best of all, there might as well be a glass wall between the front seat and the back seat for I seem to be invisible for the most part. There are no filters on these conversations….everything is just thrown out there.
Going to the park was mild by their standards…excitement about the day, knowing they could fulfill their junk food desires without restraint and best of all, making it a challenge to keep everything down as they tackled the assortment of rides and roller coasters. One stop they were determined to put on the agenda was the Harry Potter Candy Shoppe where they each nabbed a small bag of what I thought were plain old Jelly Beans. My mistake. These jelly beans were actually Harry Potter Bertie Borrs Jelly Beans with flavors like earwax, bacon, spinach, grass and rotten egg to name a few. I wouldn’t have believed it until I tried a few and the mixture of spinach, pepper and sardine exploded in my mouth causing an immediate gag reflex. Blech!!!
On the way home, however, the exchange started to become really interesting. To entertain themselves, they created a new game: “Pop the Unidentifiable Jelly Bean” The only goal seemed to be who could last the longest before spitting out the offensive Jelly Bean. To protect the guilty I have labeled the boys simply by S and C. They each picked out a jelly bean, ate it and then waited expectantly. I didn’t have long to wait.
S: (laughing hysterically) “C! Dude, your face was classic! What was the flavor?”
C: (trying to maintain coolness) “Tastes like soap! Seriously gross man! It didn’t smell like soap.” (major spit reflex)
They pop another one and wait for the other to call uncle.
C: “Tastes like s***! Had to be spinach or broccoli!”
S: (His face crinkling) “Eeeeww. This tastes like pepper…like hot and nasty.”
C: “I heard they make one called booger!”
S: “Yea, they do. When we were up in Virginia and my friend Nathan got some. They also make “dog poop”, “vomit, and “dirt”.
C: “No way!”
S: “Uh huh. We tried them all. I’m pretty sure I puked, though.” (To myself, I’m thinking; you knowingly ate candy that tastes like dog poop and vomit?????) Then they moved onto the jelly worms.
C: “Smell this one. This one smells good, kind of like limes.”
S: (Takes an enormous sniff) “Yea, that does smell good.”
C: “Dude. Your nose touched it.”
S: (chuckling) “Yea, it did.”
C: “You can have it……”
As we covered the miles, the conversation began to sink to mild insults regarding the others personal anatomy although I seriously don’t know how the topic veered so far away from the disgusting sugar treats. At some point, C makes the following declaration.
C: “S…..you’re just jealous of my wealth….you know…”
S: “Huh? I have no idea what you’re saying, C!!!”
C: “You know…down there.”
At this point, S goes in for the jugular, giggling hysterically.
S: “C!!! I have never heard that term before. Well endowed, yea but wealthy? Dude!” At this point, they involve me. “Mrs. C, have you ever heard anyone refer to their schlong with the word wealth?”
I said the first thing that came to mind. “Okay, who wants Dairy Queen?”
No doubt about it. I’m going to miss these times when they’re over. Priceless.