Busted: The Fred Factor

Okay, so after dinner me and Mo went to the Purple Park. I broke a kite and she got her chalk thing on.

And as I do, I got to talking to someone. His kids have become excited by rockets, and it's my fault. He's down $30 or so and they've already lost one of their two rockets.

That's just where the conversation started, after a whole gang of the neighborhood kids treated me as if I were some sort of minor celebrity, addressing me as 'Rocket Man' and 'Rocket Guy.'

So it's getting dark, but Mo is still happily coloring the blacktop, and I called Em to tell her we were heading to the Purple Park when we departed. And I figure it's past nine, the dark and all, and at some point I think, wait a minute...my cell phone isn't in my pocket. I go to retrieve it from the car as me and the guy I'm talking to continue to discuss Scientology, the OTO and other bullshit, and my phone is ringing.

I figure it's Em, but no, it's the Artist Formerly Known as Frau Lobster. Em has called, eleven times in a half hour span, but since I wasn't answering she gave up and called Mom.

Who pointed out, quite rightly, that it was past Mo's bedtime. Mo has school tomorrow. And Em is freaking out.

So I called Em, we're on the way, and she's pissed.

Really pissed.

And I'm like, well...you're right.

I screwed up, totally. This particular parental guilt beef was good for:

1 extra Oreo (four instead of the usual three)
1 skipped shower (I don't know why she likes to ditch this element of hygiene but she does)
1 first crack at the 'puter when I got it set up after Mo was in bed

And a whole bunch of apologies.

The computer time was focused on Fred.



Fred is an incredibly annoying youth who has entirely too much free time. He makes YouTube videos documenting his Fredness, with his voice modulated like a chipmunk.

And Em is beyond infatuated with the kid. I'll give him that he's at least found a creative outlet. He's not sitting around watching MTV, he's decided to be a pint-sized Pauly Shore instead.

Good for you, Fred. Stay away from my daughter if you want to keep your teeth.

Still, Em's unaffected delight watching this nonsense got to me. If I'd kept my cell phone in my pocket and not pissed her off so badly, I might have missed this.