There are two things that make it difficult for my sons to get away with much: one is on the occasions they are impeded by alcohol and therefore their judgement is very impaired, and the other is that I am way smarter than them!!
As most would know we’ve just had the Melbourne Spring Racing Carnival, which both the men-children attended with friends. They did look rather dashing in their suits, along with 15 of Man-Child I’s friends who congregated at our house beforehand. Man-Child I had previously asked me if he could have a handful of friends here for “pres” (that’s pre-event drinks for those not in the know), to which I was delighted to cite the new Victorian laws that make it illegal to allow minors to consume alcohol in a private house without the express permission of all parents. No matter how much he tried to get around it, he was met with legal red tape and the threat of a $7,000 fine for us. We declared a small victory on this occasion – just.
Granted on the day as I served chicken sandwiches in the warm afternoon sun I thought a cold beer would be perfect to wash down the said sambos, but the reality was their idea of “pres” was bringing a six-pack each of beers and sculling them in record time before heading off on the train to the racetrack. As we tried to point out to our boys, if one of them then fell under a train we would be legally culpable. And trust me, where there’s a will there’s a way – I’m sure they all managed a few drinks that afternoon and later in the night at the after parties (which is exactly where one of ours went)!
As is standard, we ask the boys to be home at a certain time, if they are out at a party. Normally, the “curfew” is around 11.30pm, or midnight at the latest. Which would be why at 1.30am last Sunday morning I texted Man-Child I to find out where he was, especially since he had a mate who planned to stay over here. (Now I know how much worry I caused my parents when I was out later than expected, especially being a girl). As he had spent the afternoon trackside at the races we were adamant that he come home for the night, thereby ensuring that he had to be in a reasonable state upon arriving home (yes, totally premeditated).
Not surprisingly, we had a quick text exchange:
Me: Where are you? This is not 12ish!!
M-C: I’m at (friends), waiting for a cab…..
Me: You said (friend) was staying here. Why are you at his place if you went to a party?
M-C: Can I just stay here?
Me: Taxis don’t take 1.5 hours
M-C: We got a lift back here.
This is when I pick up the phone for a quick chat. And then it starts to unravel.
Me: Why aren’t you home?
M-C: Can’t I just stay there? (Hmmm, why is he not saying “here” if he’s already there???)
Me: Put on (friend), I want to talk to him (very trusting aren’t I?)
M-C’s friend: Hello (Mother of Man-Child)
Me: Why can I hear a tram? (Knowing he doesn’t live near one!!). Put MC back on please.
Me: If you are waiting for a cab, I will come and pick you up now (oh, very clever).
M-C: Stunned silence…..Ah, I’m not there. I’m waiting for a taxi (yep, sprung).
Me: Get your arse home, in a taxi now, and then send your friend on his way. And don’t lie to me next time.
30 minutes later I hear Man-Child at the front door, then back door, then front door again, texting me because he doesn’t have a key. Given the state he was in, I doubt he could have got the key in the lock anyway. He seemed to have an unquenchable thirst the next day too for some reason!! Hmmm, we all know what that’s like don’t we?
The moral for my Men-Children: don’t lie, I always find out. And don’t lie when you’ve had a few – you make it too easy!!! 🙂
It’s not our first encounter with alcohol, naturally. You can read more here: She Knows Everything.