Deja Vu all over again...

The cell phone rings on the way home tonight... I know who it is, and I'm really too tired to have this conversation right now.

"Yea." I'm so pleasant when I'm foul and pissy.

"I'm sorry." beat "Are you still mad at me?"

"I no longer care."

Background:

Well, Junior came home after fireworks with Pickle and her little "friend" last night. Or should I say this morning. At 3:45 AM.

Drunker than anything I've ever seen. Trying really hard to talk straight. Stumbling around. Her sister and friend were not. Thank God.

So Junior was out on the balcony, sliding the glass door open and closed and talking loud. I finally got her to shut the hell up. Too late, as always.

She decides she's going to leave with her DD (who's waiting outside in the truck) and I tell her no. She calls him on his cell (cell phones are such an evil necessity) and has him come up. He assures me he hasn't been drinking, he just got off work (he doesn't drink very often anyway) but he didn't know where she got the alcohol because she came into the bar that way.

Let's Review: 17, 110 pounds, had 3 shots and 2 beers in 1 hour. His dad owns the bar where he works. mm-kay buddy, you're cute but not that cute and I'm old, but not stupid.

I reminded him she was 17 (granted 18 in 10 days) and he better not be where she's getting the beer. He says he has no idea where she got it, she was like that when she came in. She's supposed to be going to a 3 day outdoor concert in the area with him and his family this weekend, so she was planning on going back over there tonight. Of course, in her drunken wisdom, she's loud, weepy, and hell-bent on letting me know that in 11 days, it doesn't matter anymore and she's doing what she wants, so go ahead and ground her.

Heh. Ground her. That's a good one. It's all I can do to keep from choking the living shit out of her. (good thing 'zac's back... it could have been very ugly.) I tell her to leave; I'm done. She makes a loud production all down the hall.

I knew it wasn't over.

Two minutes later, I get the obligatory cop-knock. Surprisingly, it's not the cop. It's the DD with 2 open Bud Lights, and a closed one who hands them to me and says, "The cop's going to let us off with a warning, but you have to take these."

Motherfuckersonofabitchhowstupidcanyouget? *sigh* fabulous. I don't even bother going back inside.

I start down the hall; I see the cop's reflection in the window. I peek around the stairs and he requests we go outside to keep from waking the neighbors. I tell him I'll put some shorts on and be down... (just me ~n~ my USC jersey for bedtime!)

Dressed and aggravated, I make my way out the door. I'm very familiar with this fella. He's arrested her several times. He's always very pleasant. In another lifetime, I'm sure we would have dated. I digress...

What's the deal this time? I'm still not comprehending why she's not being arrested and charged with an underage again.

He's having two conversations... one with me and one with his dispatcher who has just called all cars to an even bigger episode. He apologizes, tells me that if it weren't for this call she probably would be arrested and says he'll make this quick.

She tells him she was drinking at home with me. OMFG. *breathe*

"No."

He looks genuinely surprised. "If she wasn't here drinking with you, I have to arrest her." He looks at me expectantly. Remembering the seatbelt/speeding ticket incident from years past (another time) I know I'm not going to have him ask twice.

"She wasn't drinking with me, but I woke up to this." I don't condone this, but she was home. She has now moved into my unpardonable area of lying for her.

This mollifies him. He explains to her silly drunk ass (as the Sherriff rolls up and she giggles and waves at him - I'm so proud) that if she leaves the parking lot, he has no choice but to arrest her because she has to remain with me.

She and I go back inside as he and the Sherriff explain to her DD that he needs to leave the city limits and not come back there tonight. (He lives in the next town over.) He takes off, cell phones are ringing, they're making plans.

She tries to talk her sister into driving her out to meet him because they're supposed to take off for the concert in the morning. I put my foot down. She's still young enough to be tagged with a curfew violation. It's 5a (I have to be up for work in 50 minutes) and she thinks she's going to walk to the other side of town (about 2.5 mi).

I ask her who was bartending tonight; she tells me she doesn't know. Fine. I get my keys, get her the hell out of there before she wakes the building again, and take her to meet him. Don't look at me like that. We have a bad history. I'm pissed off enough tonight that it would get ugly. And if she's gonna yak all over the place, let it be HIS family's place.

The ride was not pleasant. She says to me words that haunt me today. "Drinking takes me to my happy place."

Her father was a coke addict and a drinker. I never did one, and rarely do the other. She gets the proclivity from him. I have counseled, educated, and gotten professional help for her for the last 3 years. She has the knowledge; it's out of my hands now whether she uses it. I remind her of her father's issues and she's upset because I tell her she's embarrassed the family. This is what she tells me she's upset about on the phone today.

I pull up next to the DD, get out and open his passenger door. While she's coming around, I ask him who was bartending tonight. He says he was. By now she's in the car. I look at him, look at her and say, "Oh, so you don't know who was bartending, huh?" She get the "caught" look and sinks down - the depressive side of the alcohol has now caught up with her - and I slam the door and take off without another word. I get home in time for a 35 minute nap and stumble into work. It is not a good day.

FF to the phone conversation this evening. She's only doing it because she's bored; she doesn't have school to keep her occupied 'til fall, and it's no big deal, she didn't mean to hurt me, she's sorry, blah blah blah....

"Mom, you still there?"

"Yep, just flashing back 19 years ago." That hurt. She goes off. She's not her father, blah blah blah. He used to lie, cheat, steal and I remind her that she and her DD BOTH looked me in the eye and lied to me. I hate being lied to with a passion that is beyond explanation. And she gets that same look that passes over her face right before she does it - she can't control it and it pisses her off. I tell her I'm done with it. In a few short days, she's responsible for herself and I can only offer guidance. If she chooses not to accept it, she will pay the consequences.

Don't look at me like that. I've always made her own up to what she's done, take responsibility for her actions when she's had to go to court. She's worked and paid all her fines, and done her community service. And Lord knows I've done MY time with her.

She tells me she'll call me tomorrow. I care. I tell her "fine" and hang up.

This does not amuse me. She is being a horrible example for her younger sister, who thinks the world of her. I'm pissed because there is seemingly nothing that gets through to this girl that she has a great future if she would just

stop.

fucking.

it.

up.

*grrr*

I'm tired.