My craziest year was definitely 15. As “nightmarish” as I have been throughout my college career, high school was really my rebellious time. I lost my virginity a boy I wasn’t dating, I got my first tattoo, I became, for lack of a better word, “hella” pierced. Basically, I was an out of control teenager who took advantage of parents’ leniency. With everything I already owe my parents, not kicking me out into the cold, rough streets of the upper-middle class suburbs is the biggest debt I have to them.
Recently, I began informing them of the many hijinks I used to partake in. Things like claiming I was spending the full weekend with my friend when, in reality, I would frequently take a train to places like Los Angeles or Laguna. How I snuck into clubs and dressed so slutty a guy even offered me $50 for the night. Which, if we’re being honest, was pretty insulting. I’m worth at least $100.
Their reaction surprised me to say the least. When I told me mom I got caught smoking weed and cried my way out of a ticket, she laughed and explained how her friends had a game of dipping one or two cigarettes into PCP and putting them back into the carton to play a game of Russian Roulette. Oh, and my dad? He and his buddies got so high they set a record for ice cream eating.
After a little bit of back and forth, I came to realization that my parents’ “good fun” made my rebellious stage look like a little bitch. Do you know how humiliating that is? To think for years that you were sticking it to the man, only to learn the man was always more badass than you? Here I was, looking like a knock off Avril Lavigne with pink hair and a bare midriff, all the while my parents were actually causing havoc in their cities.
Basically, my life shattered. I may not be good at many things, but being the center of attention was always my strongest talent. My own mother one-upping me was truly a humbling experience. I always knew my family was fun loving. I got it from somewhere. There’s been multiple times I will call my dad and he would answer with “Hey! I’m in Paris/Spain/China” as an impromptu trip. Hell, my dad got escorted off the Great Wall for being unruly.
But the best story was from my mom. When my mom was 15 and also going through her rebellious stage, she and a friend left her town to go upstate to see a boy she was dating without her parents’ knowledge. No big deal, I’ve done the same thing countless times. Except I always took a train paying with my own money. Homegirl just stole her parents’ truck (not the best move if you don’t want your parent’s to know that you dipped out) and drove without a license to meet this guy. Who was living in a halfway house. Because he was just released from jail.
Hearing this story, from my mother’s own mouth, left me shook. This woman raised me. This woman is a respected professional and a great mother. And she was into some ratchet shit. Like, I feel like most of us do have that gross, dark side. The face I put on while meeting my future mother-in-law is drastically different from the face I put on while dancing on a table somewhere in Mexico for spring break. And while it makes sense that our mothers also have a crazy fun wild-side too, I was not adequately prepared to hear about it.
The moral of the story is, all of y’all need to party with your mom. She’s probably a bad ass woman who can teach you a thing or two..