That Boy

Killer Abs + Devil grin + Easy going, aw shucks attitude + Sparkle + Great arms + Amazing kisser + Star Quarterback + Dreamy blue eyes = Irresistible .

He is so cute.

“Jayyyyy,” Da

Shit. I can't tell them about Lisa. So I, uh, make up something.

“Oh, uh, well, maybe not one night stands, actually. I mean sometimes there is sex involved, but usually it's just that maybe there is an older guy they crush on, and he pays attention to her at a party and offers to take her home, but of course they end up parking, and she just does more with him than she pla

“You're a girl, and you're not like that.” Phillip tells me. “Maybe you need some new friends.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I think that they're probably normal, and that I'm just weird.”

“Yeah, well we know that,” Da

What a game!

What a close, exciting, exhilarating game!

Da

We were behind by a touchdown at half time, but ended up wi

Touchdown!

It was brilliant, really, and pure Da

Okay, so I might be a bit biased, but a lot of colleges already do. Notre Dame, Nebraska, USC, Ohio State, and Oklahoma. He verbally committed to play at Nebraska, but still has a couple more recruiting visits to make. I don't think he'll change his mind though. He's wanted to be a Husker since he was a little boy.

After the game, Da

It's music. 80's hair band ballads, I think.

Tragic.

Then I hear a man and a woman's laughter.

I stop.

Oh.

I see that it's dark in the backyard, and I know my parents probably aren't expecting me home this early. I mean, it is a full hour and 38 minutes before my curfew, and I am NEVER early. I probably shouldn't just barge in on them. I wouldn't want them to barge

in on me, but of course they would. And I am adult enough to understand that parents, you know, but it is just something I refuse to think about.

I mean, yuck.

Gross.

I reconsider going back there. I certainly don't want to barge in on them and see something that could very well scar me for life. As I get a little closer, I realize that there are numerous voices laughing.

Whew, they're not alone. I'll just kick them all out of the back yard, so we can use the hot tub.

It's late, they're old, and it's like so way past their bedtime.

Okay, so it's not that late, and they're not that old.

I decide it's safe to go through the gate and am just opening it, when I catch a whiff of something. At first, I wonder if they have a fire going, but then I notice it has a sweet smell to it, like burning hay.

NO WAY!

What I see when I bound through the gate is almost too freakish to describe. Our parents are all in our hot tub.

Naked.

There are empty Corona bottles scattered all over the edge of the hot tub.

Glass bottles, I might add.

GLASS!!

How many millions of times have I been told to never have glass by the hot tub because if a glass broke in the tub, you could never get it all out, and the whole thing would be ruined!

Obviously, these rules don't apply to our parents.

Then I notice that Phillip's Dad, Mr. Mac, is taking a hit off a joint.

Ah. There it is.

They are all laughing at something and are apparently already half-baked. I'm practically standing in the water with them, and they still have not acknowledged my presence.

Hello?

Naked parents.

Pot.

Alcohol.

I may very well be traumatized by all of this.

Somebody wa

Just as I am about to say something, Mr. Diamond stands up to grab another beer.

Yikes.

I close my eyes real quick. There's no way I need to see this man naked. I don't want to see him naked. But I peek anyway, cuz come on, he looks like Da

In a swimsuit.

DANG!

I look a little closer and realize they are not naked after all. I can see some stringy things tied around Mom's neck.

But still. Pot. They are so busted.

I jump onto the hot tub stairs and say, “So kids, this is what goes on when I'm not here. You are all so grounded.”

Mom chokes on her Corona. Phillip's dad nearly swallows the joint. Everyone else, my father included, is giggling. My father laughs often, yes, but NEVER giggles. They seem to think this is hysterical.

Okay, so I have to tell you, this is not exactly the picture I had in my mind of what my parents do to while away the time until I get home. I mean sometimes I picture them sitting in matching rocking chairs, rocking and pacing, checking their watches with worry, counting down the seconds till I'm home safely.

Lately though, I picture them as wild referees with stopwatches and big whistles.

Last Saturday, I was coming in the door very quietly, not sneaking in, mind you, but just trying to be polite and not disturb them, when it's like this huge prison spot light comes glaring on me, and Dad jumps out of nowhere. He blows a referee's whistle at me and a scoreboard buzzer goes off as he says, “Jadyn, you are twelve and half minutes late.”

“According to whom?” I ask politely. “My watch,” which I may have set back ten minutes or so, “says I'm right on time.”

“According to NASA, that's who,” Dad says, pointing to the GPS, satellite-tracking watch thingy he has.

Anyway, it's just that I don't really picture them having a life without me. I mean, I know they get together with friends to watch movies or play cards. I can picture them chatting or killing time watching Storm Stories.

But certainly not smoking and boozing it up in my hot tub.