Every Mother’s Hope For Their Child

, , , , | Related | October 10, 2019

(I’m a fairly innocent kid. When I’m in seventh grade, I’m ecstatic to get the part of a Lost Boy in my school’s production of “Peter Pan.” My character, Pans, wears a pot on his head at all times. My mother begins hatching a plot when I come home with the pot, and that night she springs into action.)

Mom: “Hey, [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah?”

Mom: “Can you help me with something?”

Me: “Yeah, what?”

Mom: *grinning* “I need you to put on your costume, go out into the living room, and tell your father, ‘Look, Dad, I’m a pothead.’”

(This seems a little weird to me, but I don’t know if there’s a joke there or what she’s talking about. I trust my mother, so I do what she asks.)

Me: *walks into the living room* “Hey, Dad!”

Dad: *looks up from magazine*

Me: “Look, I’m a pothead!”

Dad: *puts his head in his hands and groans*

Mom: *dying of laughter*

(I didn’t fully understand what my mom had been laughing at or why my dad had been groaning until I was much, much older.)

1 Thumbs
400