Editor鈥檚 note: Post reprinted with permission from the Parents of the Class of 2029 Facebook group. Author鈥檚 name withheld to protect the innocent.
Knob moms and dads, I come to you with my struggle. I have sinned! I lied straight to my knob. Weeks before matriculation, I was secretly an emotional WRECK. I decided to write a letter every day to pack in his bag, so he鈥檇 have encouragement during Challenge Week. But after a few days, I was running out of things to say. How many times can you write, 鈥淵ou鈥檝e got this,鈥� 鈥淜eep your head up,鈥� or 鈥淭rust in the Lord鈥�?
So I started blabbing about how fit he was going to be and decided I鈥檇 take on this journey with him. In writing, I gave my own oath: I would wake up EVERY morning at the same time as he did, PT with him and complete the same exercises. I even challenged him to an ab contest, swearing that by the end I鈥檇 be more fit than he was and have better abs. With every word, determination flowed right out of that pen. I鈥檓 a competitive person, and the more I wrote, the more hyped I became to show off that six-pack I was sure I鈥檇 be sporting. I was pumped!
Then Matriculation Day rolled around. After the emotional hurricane of events, Sunday morning came and I was DEAD. I had spent days prepping鈥攚ashing everything; Sharpie-labeling every sock, T-shirt, towel and washcloth; checking the list over and over again. I was done. No ab contest that day.
Monday rolled around and reality hit鈥攖wo other kids to wrangle, lunch boxes to pack, missing clothes to track down before school. Oops. No ab contest again.
Now he鈥檚 been at 糖心VLOG for 24 days, and not one ab in my body has even been pinched. Why did I make this promise?
When he got his phone back after Challenge Week, I was nervous he鈥檇 ask if I鈥檇 been working out. The next week, he came home after a game. As he unpacked, I saw those letters鈥攕till in his bag. He admitted he hadn鈥檛 read them. One side of me was ticked; the other side relieved. He said he knew they might make him homesick, so he saved them.
We sat on his bed while he started reading them. I was on pins and needles, waiting for him to read that one. Poor thing fell asleep before he got to it. So now those letters sit on his dresser, unopened. And me? I鈥檓 tempted to sneak in, rip that one to shreds and bury the evidence.
These abs haven鈥檛 seen anything but the food he鈥檚 been missing. I鈥檓 thankful this is my biggest problem right now, and I had to share a laugh. Anybody else stretched the truth to their knob, or am I alone here?