Typical Male

My 14 year-old son, I've determined, is normal. He's a typical male specimen, unafraid of consuming a container of peas and a dreamsicle in the same sitting, at the same time, in the same mouthful. He possesses courage beyond logic.

He prides himself on the array of sounds that spontaneously and forcefully emit from his body. B.O. doesn't bother him. And he's constantly complaining, "We don't have anything to eat," (probably because he already ate everything).

Last night when he lodged those words through a belch, I snapped. "We have food, you just don't look for it. Your problem is you don't know how to find food. You expect it to put itself on a plate and come find you."

A 14 year-old cannot be shut-up or shut down so easily, though. There's always a last word and it's always his. He said that oh yes he does know how to find food. These are the steps in his method, as described by him in his own last words:

1. Open the refrigerator.
2. Stand and stare until Mama yells to close the refrigerator.
3. Lower your standards.
4. Open the refrigerator.
5. Repeat process until Mama bonks or you find a shriveled piece of sausage in a zip-lock bag, or, preferably, both.
6. Put the sausage back and eat a bowl of cereal. Leave the milk on the table.
7. Go do something until you're hungry again.