“Can you get me a beer?”

Last Friday I came home from work.  I had left my cell phone at home and had missed a call from the Sista so I called her back.  We discussed our plans for the weekend.  The Boy was pretty good and only asked me 2 questions while I was on the phone with her, “What is she doing tonight?” and “What are you talking about?”

Let me explain.

The Boy is a terrible person to have sitting next to you while you’re on the phone.  The Sista hates it, (which was actually what we were talking about).  He needs to be in the know.  He can’t wait 5 minutes until you’re off the phone.  He NEEDS to know now.  If you call us and we’re not home (or screening) you’ll hear my beautiful voice asking you to leave a message.  You’ll also hear the TV on in the background and the Boy asking me a question.  Probably something along the lines of what I was doing.

But I digress.

I got off the phone and the Boy had ants in his pants and asked me if I could get him a beer.  I said, “No.” He proceeded to pester me and ask over and over again for me to go into the freezing cold sun room and get him a beer.  My rationale? He had been home since 4:00, I got home 10 minutes earlier.  He was sitting on the same couch I was.  And he wanted the beer.  I wanted nothing.  This went on for a while.

He tried a few tactics including an effort at guilt, “If your sister asked you for a beer, you would get it for her.” I told him that I probably would, but she would know not to ask me when I had just walked in the door, she would wait for when I had already gotten up again, or at least given me some time to unwind.  He asked again.  I politely declined.

Then he asked, “What do I need to say to you that you’ll get me a beer?” Having just had a conversation about DanceBreak – the National Ballet’s discount tickets for ballet lovers under 29, I said “You can pinky swear me that we’ll go to a ballet in the next 6 months.”  He considered it.  And answered with “What if I told you I heard from the school board today?”

I was thrown off completely and answered, “and they said?”

He spelled it out for me – “I got the job!”

I was still confused.  I was still really fixated on the beer request. I was convinced he was making this up just to trick me into getting him the beer. I would get it, and he would say “just kidding!”  Let’s be clear, I was SURE he was going to get the job he applied to, but he wasn’t supposed to hear for another week at least.  He recognized I needed proof. He showed me the email.

After reading it completely I started to believe.  The Boy is officially an employed teacher. This is definitely bold underline and italics news!

He is going to mold young minds.

He couldn’t be happier and neither could I.

I got him the beer.

He is so sneaky

PS. I still made him pinky swear about the Ballet.