Darling Son

Thursday we come home to discover our water had been shut off.  Ouch.

I went to our checking account online and found the reason right away.  Our bank draft didn’t go through.  I immediately went to the water company’s online site to pay our bill and then shot them a note of apology and to please turn our water on as we needed to take showers and stuff.

Friday morning we used a slew of baby wipes to clean our bodies before going to work.  We were able to have our morning coffee and such because we shamelessly have water delivered to us from Highbridge.  I know paying for bottled water is considered highway robbery to some (like my father) but this water is so much better than what comes outta the taps in Lexington — even after I Brita it.

I drink a lot of water.  I’m not a soda or iced tea drinker.  I like my coffee and tea and do use the Brita water for these, but I am primarily a water drinker.  And I prefer the taste of Highbridge over those two.  So I pay for my delicious water in the same vein of reason as those who buy soda, charbucks, beer, or whatever.

We’ve been making our son’s car payment for the last three or four months and this has been killing us (but not so much that I should give up the Highbridge).  It’s nearly five hundred a month that we don’t have.  I don’t know where we’ve been finding it until stuff like coming home to no water happens.  We have been doing without a lot these past few months along with "robbing Peter to pay Paul," but hey — he’s our son.  And we want to help him out.  And it’s only for a little while.

That’s what we keep telling ourselves.  No matter that we’ve had to semi re-fi the house, switch to generic foods, and other horrendous life altering money saving ways in order to accommodate these temporary situations.  We’re gonna do it because he is our son.  Charity begins in the home, pholks.  It really does.

My dad doesn’t feel this way.  He’ll tell you, "you don’t owe your kids anything."  And by that he means beyond food, clothing, and shelter.  And even then it really only counts as long as the kid is unable to provide for these on its own.  The kid doesn’t have to be 18 for some of these to be dropped if the kid is old enough to, you know, GET A JOB.  Especially if that kid is your only daughter.

Now if that kid is your middle-aged son and he is now using a third car (from your collection of six) because he drove the other two into the ground — well that is not even the same thing as helping your kid out.  I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure my dad (and late mother) somehow rationalized this behavior in their little selfish parenting minds.

My parents were not nurturing at all.  If there were such a thing a pro-de-nurturing my parents had it hands down over anyone else.  And even their basic provisions came with life scarring conditions, but that’s a blog post no one would have time to read (or would I have time to write).

But even so, I will go on to the let you know that not all parents want their kids to have it better in life than they did.  OH, HELL, NO!  There are parents who are more like "how dare you," when it comes to being happy or doing well.

I am not one of those (my) parents.

So we’ll continue to struggle at helping our son out another month or two.  Our darling son really needs our help financially, mentally, and emotionally right now.  And we can do that.  Yes, we can.  And it makes us feel damn proud to do it, too!

And on another note…

A person could do this to infinity… 

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