My ex just dropped off our son and was lecturing him about springing friends on him. He started to say that when he picked up the boy, a friend was here too and the ex got suckered into taking both of them out to dinner. I was like, "hold, up. A what? Was where?" No, no, no. First it's PS2 with a buddy, then next thing you know I'm a grandma at 40. My son knows better (or so I thought) than to have someone in the house after school without permission. So, I asked my son who gave him permission. That boy had the nerve to say I did. Straight face and all. What? When the fuck did that happen? I don't think so. You might wonder what the miscommunication was. Well, apparently he left a message on my cell phone letting me know that his friend was coming over to hang out, which in his mind equaled permission. Hello? I don't fuckin' think so. "Nice try," I told him. Then I grounded him until after the weekend. Told him that excuse was retired and I don't ever want to hear it again, not when he's 16 -- "but mom, I left you a message letting you know I was going to TJ with the guys..." -- not ever. My ex left at that point, probably happy he doesn't have to hear it anymore! This feels like the weekend the bird cage will get cleaned. Little does my son know, but if he could ever get through the hard labor portion of the punishment gracefully (like bird cage cleaning), the jail time would be reduced. But no, every time it's with the eyes rolling, heavy sighing, lips dragging on the ground. He never gets paroled early.

Tom and I did arms today. 4 circuits. Then 20 minutes on the arm bike machine (whatever the hell it's called) to cool down. At least now the pain will be evenly distributed throughout my body. On the plus side, I didn't feel like throwing up the entire time tonight. Day 2 down.