It has been quite a while since I have genuinely laughed out loud, in fact, I laughed so loud I actually made the guy in front of me at Starbucks jump and look at me as though I needed some help; I had forgotten how loud my snorts are. So what could possibly make me disregard my surroundings and let loose one of my husband’s favorite noises (not really), well, it simply starts with a text from my son: “Mom, I am going to be late. I just got pulled out of class because one of those drug sniffing dogs honed in on my backpack. I’m being escorted to the office.” This is where I snorted exceptionally loud while waiting to place my order for coffee. I laughed because my son is a good kid – no I am not one of those naïve parents who thinks their kid can do no wrong – I know mine isn’t perfect, but he is darn close. I call him the “smartest underachiever.”

My son and I had an entertaining exchange of texts while I waited for him to show up at the bank. They are continued from the one above and they go something like this:

Me: “Um, okay. Do I need to come on down and crack some skulls?”

Son: “Naw, I think it is all good, but I would pay to see you thump some skulls together. I am waiting in a very long line of the schools usual suspects. They are all looking at me very weird.”

Me: “Yeah, I bet they are thinking you are the rich white kid they need to be buying their stuff from.” (My sons school is very diverse)

Son: “Now everyone is looking at me because I just busted up for no reason. The kid next to me is looking seriously guilty. He won’t hold still. Thinking he might run at any moment.”

Me: “Ha ha….ask him if he dumped his shit out on the way to the office”

Son: “Almost up. They are taking their time. Crazy dog keeps looking at me. I shouldn’t of had the tri-tip sandwich for lunch.”

Me: “Nice. So just for clarification, you don’t have anything you need to tell me?’

Son: “Naw, I gave the stash to G at lunch. I should be good. Kidding Mom.”

Me: “Wouldn’t be a mom if I didn’t at least ask. So, you up yet Pot Smoker?”

…..several minutes later….

Son: “All done. On my way. Blamed the neighbors for their skunky ways.”

Me: “ Good thinking”

While waiting for my son, I got a phone call from the Assistant Principal. He wanted to let me know everything that my boy already told me. He further said it was a random search, but that we might want to wash his backpack to avoid any further issues. He was also curious about what my son meant about the neighbors. I suggested that my neighbors may smoke pot occasionally (everyday) and that on occasion my son doesn’t always roll up his windows so the smoke may get in his truck. Not sure if it really is possible but perhaps some scent may have lingered on his backpack.

Now here’s the kicker, that backpack in question, was given to him by his girlfriend. I blame her….not really….oh who’s kidding, it’s all her fault. 🙂