I realize Flash and I have a pretty unique relationship. We spend our evenings just the two of us, no television on, often sharing tidbits about our day, or funny things that we think of. We share many inside jokes between us and we often times start our conversations with, "remember how I was telling you about..." We often sit at various events, band performances, games, etc. and text back and forth sarcastic comments, funny anecdotes, etc.
We forget sometimes that there are people around us who are not in on the conversation.
Tonight was the homecoming football game. Not at all interested in anything to do with such matters, but being required as a member of the marching band to be at the game, Flash and I headed off to the game. While I love a good football game, our high school team is terrible, the crowd is rude and it was cold and spitting rain to boot. I sat in the car reading a book of Flash's until just before the band's halftime performance, at which point I paid my $5 admission fee, got a hot chocolate and stood with the crowd to watch the band perform before returning to my vehicle in the parking lot, waiting for the game to be over and for Flash to head with me home.
The book I was reading to keep me entertained was one that Flash had read last spring at the suggestion of a favorite teacher. He has raved and raved about the marvels of this book and bought his own copy just so he could re-read it and share it with people. I decided I must be the first person who got to borrow it. It's taken me a couple weeks to get through it, which is a statement to how much I didn't fall in love with it. Flash and I have talked about it briefly as I've progressed, and he pointed out that he was looking forward to a re-read as he felt like he missed a couple things the first time through. Tonight, while waiting for halftime, I finished the book. In between text messages back and forth with Flash about the lame-o football game, I mentioned that I finished the book. He asks how I liked it.
"Well," I texted back. "You're going to have to explain the coffin full of dirt to me."
Which apparently is a quite disturbing text for a fellow band member to read over his shoulder. Go figure
"Your mom just sent you a text asking you to explain a coffin full of dirt?!?" the friend inquired quite disturbingly of Flash.
"Well, yeah," came my sarcastic son's reply, "she found it in the trunk of my car and wants an explanation," he lied. What? Just because they aren't in on the original conversation doesn't mean we owe it to them to be straight up about it!
"You have a coffin full of dirt in the trunk of your car?"
"Sure. Don't you ever go ghost hunting at grave yards?" Flash said while he texted me back that he didn't really get that part of the book either.
It took his friend a few seconds too long to figure out Flash was kidding and so I suspect the teasing will continue for some time.
In any case, I'm still waiting for my explanation. To that friend, I suspect there are many explanations he's still waiting on.