The Child We Keep in the Garage

My youngest, in his relentless quest to drive me crazy, has decided he would like to move out to the garage.

Now we’re not talking about one of those nice finished garages, with cheerily painted walls and carpeted floors.  No, this is more your damp, spider infested dumping ground.  If you don’t know what to do with something, just open the garage door and toss it as hard and far as possible.  Someone else can worry about it later.

And do you think we ever have room to park a vehicle in there?  Long dead are the dreams of order we harboured when it was being built, attached to the house and bigger-than-double.  My poor husband keeps going out there and building bike racks, cupboards, shelves and anything else he can think of to contain the chaos, but it’s just too big for all of us.

Hoss has started hanging out there with his friends, watching the little TV, listening to music and skateboarding in whatever floor space they can clear.  It’s not a bad haunt for teenage boys whose standards are not famously high.

But as a bedroom?  I’m fairly certain the garage heater, which sounds like an aircraft taking off, and smells of burnt dust is not designed for indoor use.  And I think the mice who take up residence when the weather gets cold might object to having to share.

I’ve tried to explain that it would require some fairly extensive renovation to make it habitable.  I also protested my fondest hope that it might be rendered tidy enough for me to park in when the weather dips down to -45.  Sadly, it all fell on deaf ears, serving as further evidence that the only pleasure in my life is ruining his.

The upshot is that he is now playing a new game called “let’s see how many ridiculously absurd requests I can make before Mum rips out all her hair and dashes barefoot out into the snow screaming to be left alone.”

Things like “Mum, can I paint the ceiling?”, “Mum can I put a fireman’s pole through my bedroom floor down to the sitting room?” or “Mum, can I buy ‘Scary Psychotic Blood and Guts Serial Killers’, rated MMMM on playstation?”

I feel certain this is a perfectly healthy phase of questioning, pushing boundaries and establishing limits, but he’s been going through it for about 13 years now and I’d like it to end soon.

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6 thoughts on “The Child We Keep in the Garage

  1. This reminds me of when my younger brother moved into our garage at around age 15.. him and his buddies actually did alot of work out there fixing it up and it was always known as “The Joint” (no, not for drugs..lol)
    The upswing to my brothers room was it did have heat and was spider free.. yes, kids will try us parents!!

  2. This was a lovely, entertaining little post. I do not have boys, and I do not (yet) have teenagers, but the fact that yours is only thirteen, with many teen years to come, has me worried for you (and your hairloss)! 😉

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