October 10, 2007

Dead Boopie walking.

I’m so pissed right now. Last night Boopie came out of his room to throw something away, as I walked past I could smell smoke. It was the definite scent of something burning. In general I asked both him and Ktreva what was burning. They both said nothing. After pointing out that I could smell smoke, Ktreva agreed she could. The smoke was closest to Boopie’s room. So I asked him what was burning, and he kept saying nothing as he tried to hide a lighter. When I confiscated it, it was still warm. He said he just flicked it on. I asked him what he needed a lighter for and he said he didn’t know, he just had it.

After his continual denial that he didn’t know what was burning, I went to check the trash. He then confessed that he was burning paper and threw it into a plastic bottle with water to put it out. I knew he had been lying, but there was always the benefit of the doubt until I found the evidence. He wouldn’t even tell me why he lied. Since he’s already grounded from going to friend’s houses due to his grades. I took away the TV for two weeks and made him write sentences.

Today when I get home he’s skulking around writing his sentences and got pissed because I told him he had to mow the lawn. As I was sitting in the house getting ready to do something else I heard a loud thud against the truck. I open up the window and ask him if he hit my truck. “Yeah”… So I ask him if there’s a scratch. “Yeah”. Then I ask him why he would do that, and he said, “It was along the grass and tried to avoid it but I bumped into it.” So I go outside to look. As I get to my truck there is a scratch down the drivers side front and back door and the bed to the steering wheel and not just a scuff, but a scratch.”

I’m about livid, this wasn’t an accidental bump this was an intentional scratch. This is going to cost money to get fixed because if I don’t it’s going to rust. I’m so mad that I can barely speak. I go over with him the consequences of bad decisions and for the first time I actually threatened military school to him. It took every ounce of restraint I had to not beat him to near death. I told him that “You had better get back to mowing this lawn and doing it properly with out damaging anything else. Meanwhile I need to go inside before I do something I’m going to regret.”

As I was just started typing this trying to work out some of the anger and frustration I hear him hit something in the back yard. He ran over the corner to the grill cover. It had been there for months and never got touched. Again he talks about he was trying to “move the mower” and accidentally hit it. The problem is that the cover was about a foot away from the edge of the grass.

Right now I want to just go into his room and smash everything he owns that he likes. Take everything away and give it other people or just permanently disable it and make him live in a room full of dysfunctional junk.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I do know that if I don’t calm down I’m going to blow a gasket.

Posted by Contagion in Family Life at October 10, 2007 05:26 PM | TrackBack

Taking away his stuff is a damn good idea. I'd be just as pissed. Hell, I'm pissed just reading this. Go for it, strip his room to a bed with a blanket and a pillow and just the clothes he needs for school. Until he realizes that actions have consequences....

Posted by: caltechgirl at October 10, 2007 10:56 PM

Daaaamn... I'm surprised the boy's still this side of the sod! You've exercised more restraint than I *ever* could've, that's for damned sure.

Caltechgirl's got a great idea -- reduce his belongings to a cot, blanket, and clothes for school.

And if he decides to "accidentally" damage anything else, some prized confiscated possession of his goes the way of the dodo for good.

I'm just glad he didn't burn your house down!
*shaking head*

Posted by: Wes at October 10, 2007 11:17 PM

Life sure was easier when we were allowed to beat the snot out of them, wasn't it? They actually behaved better, too.
There is something seriously wrong when we have to watch what we do to avoid being thought of as abusers while the behavior gets worse every year.
If we could only hang every child psychologist and education major in the country we could go back to slapping some sense into kids.
Then kids would stop shooting up the schools, too.

Posted by: Peter at October 10, 2007 11:19 PM

Not that it helps his case any, but I'm thinking the damage was probably accidental while pissily flinging the mower around turns, etc and not paying as much attention as he should have. Still his fault, but I can't believe he'd intentionally scratch the truck - the boy knows that'd be like a death sentence.
The boy seriously needs to get this lying shit out of his system though. And if the lighter didn't belong to you or the wife I'd instantly be suspicious of what he's using it for (other than paper) too.

Posted by: Shadoglare at October 10, 2007 11:44 PM

Ya know, I really understand where you're comin' from.......even though it's been a while....

Dude, if it were me, I'd take the "stuff" away. It'll piss him off, but losin' his stuff was better than what you *COULD* to do.

Take away a playstation, or hell, I've even taken away a car. And I mean AWAY. My name on the title. I GAVE it to a kid down the street.....talk about a constant reminder....

Posted by: Tammi at October 11, 2007 04:51 AM

Definitely lucky the house didn't burn down. Maybe the mowing should be done with a pair of safety scissors. Obviously, he can't control the mower. Or maybe just some good ol' heavy lifting. A cube of concrete blocks would work well. Place the cube in the farthest reaches of the back yard, and then another pallet in the front yard. Make him carry the blocks from one pallet to the other and re-stack them. Then, he confirms with you that it has been done, they are all neatly stacked, and none broken. Then, takes them back to the original pallet.

He is darn lucky he isn't being raised in the house I was. The last time I did anything that was punishable, my butt got beat with my dad's Fraternity Pledge Paddle!!! I was something like 12 or so, which was in 1994.

If he is coming to Fort Obie with you, he could be put to work all weekend, hauling firewood to the Fort and such.

Posted by: Petey at October 11, 2007 10:02 AM

Do you know all his friends?

It sounds like maybe he has gotten in with some bad people and they are influencing him.

Might be time to talk with some of his teachers to see if they know who he is hanging with, they might be different from those you know.

Or talk with his friends parents to see if there kids have changed or they know anything.

This kid really needs an intervention.

Posted by: Quality Weenie at October 11, 2007 11:19 AM

I am surprised that kid can still walk...you are much calmer than my dad would have been...i think i would have gone missing and at some point in the next week when people asked where i was he would have said something believable like i was backpacking in Abu Dhabi for eternity which of course translates to buried in the corn field near our house...

I am not sure what i would do in your situation...i know my parents were fans of what Petey suggested, hard labor...nowhere in the vicinity of anything of value that is...good luck man.

Posted by: Sari at October 11, 2007 04:48 PM

Are you sure your boopie and my Little Man aren't related?
Damn....they sound like twins!

I can say though, with plenty of gritted teeth, a few ass beatin's (even at 16), grounding from friends and internet and games and several long talks, Little Man has finally started to come around to OUR way of thinking.

Trust me, it takes a while. Especially when he does that 'I don't know' answer like it's his own personal cop out. AArgh....

You'll do the right thing. It's your kid....only you know what will get to him the most.
Good luck!

Posted by: Rave at October 11, 2007 05:56 PM

It's not legal here and certainly not politically correct anymore, but my Mother's liberal use of the belt kept my brother and myself in line.

Alternately, my son-in-law just took everything away from the grandkids [7 and 8] because they wouldn't clean their room. EVERYTHING, even their favorite little stuffed animals they slept with.
There was a line of 10 big black trash bags filled with goodies... going to other children.

Posted by: pam at October 16, 2007 09:45 AM

I wasn't a bad boy...ok I'm lying but still.

I can remember at least 4 Christmas's where I opened everything....and watched it get out away in my parents closet due to my grades.

At least twice I had nothing in my room. I had a lamp, a Brother typewriter, Army bed roll mat, a sleeping bag, and a feather pillow. My father moved everything else out to the garage.

My father gave me several pairs of his Navy combat boots (Flight Deckers he called them, with steel toe's) I polished them for inspections each night, and my closet was dress right dress.

My books were soley my school books and a stack of Encyclopedia Brittanica.

I was pulled off the Basketball team, and the rodeo team by my folks. Grades again. No going anywhere and my folks gave me homework completely unrelated to my school work on top of my regular stuff. Typed.

Wasn't much fun but a helluva motivator.

And you don't even want to know what happened when I started snagging my Dad's Levi Garrett.

Posted by: BloodSpite at October 16, 2007 12:16 PM

I know this will be my son in a few years and I am scared to death. One thing that has worked for me is selling items. Ebay, Craigslist, whatever it takes. Good way to pay for the repairs. I do like your idea of not taking the items away just making them non-functional. That way he can sit there and remember when his tv worked. Out of sight out of mind.

Posted by: lukie at October 18, 2007 06:08 PM