Raising Bipolar

Lord, sometimes I have conversations with Rye that just completely crack me up.  I often feel he is of such a different generation than I am in so many ways (and I had him in my mid 20’s so I am not an older mom).  Particularly with regard to technology and how much that has influenced his generation.   It’s amazing how his whole generation is engulfed in technology.

Here are a few examples from this week.

Example One:

The other day I went to pick Rye up from a friend’s house.  As we are driving home we are talking and I say something mildly funny [if I do say so myself].   Now, normally this type of comment would evoke laughter from him.  However, on this particular occasion I say my comment and he responds back completely deadpan, “laugh out loud.”

“What?”  I say.

“Laugh out loud,” he says.

“Ummm,” I say.   “Did you just say ‘laugh out loud’ without actually laughing?”

“Yes, mom, that’s the new thing to do.  You know, LOL – laugh out loud, like in texting or on the computer?  You just say it instead of actually doing it.”

To which, of course, I start dying laughing.   I mean seriously, of all the things.  I found it so funny. After I started cracking up he actually started laughing in response to my laughter.  Go figure.

Apparently I am just so yesteryear with my actually laughing.  Who knew?

Example Two:

Rye comes to me yesterday and says he has an arm injury and thinks he needs to go to the doctor.  He feels his arm is probably sprained and maybe he needs a sling or something becasue it hurts really badly every time he moves it.  “Wow,” I say, “I had no idea.  How did you do this?  You seemed fine earlier.”

Well, he replies, apparently he feels like he injured his arm holding the cell phone to his ear for an extended amount of time talking to his friends.   Apparently that extended muscle contraction and extended held arm position injured his arm.

Now, although I was tempted to respond with a simple statement of ‘laugh out loud’,  being the old lady in the shoe I am I could not contain my outburst of actual laughter and went on to laugh so hard I nearly wet my pants.

Needless to say, I deemed the visit to the doctor unnecessary.  After all, a sprained arm from cell phone overuse does not exactly constitute a war injury, for peet’s sake.

Seriously, how embarrassing.