The Motley Crew

Son is pretty smart.

I went to pick him up from summer band last Thursday. As he was getting into the car, I hear a knock on my window. I look up to see C-Boy, one of Son's best friends, peering into the window.

"Hey! Momma Sherra (that's what he calls me), we think it's time to have a trombone gathering in the Man-Cave," he says, with a big grin on his face. I look over at Son, also with a big grin on his face.

"OK," I say, "sounds good. We'll talk about it and figure out when."

"Great!" says C-Boy, flashing another handsome grin.

I turn to Son, who is now smirking.

"Having C-Boy do your dirty work now, huh?" I ask.

Son laughs.

I ask, "So, how many boys are we talking about?"

Son answers, "Nine, I think."

NINE? I saved myself just before running off the road and hitting a tree.

Now, the "Man-Cave," you should know, is the added-on gameroom in our home. It has no air conditioner, only a ceiling fan, old, stained carpet and most of the wall paper has been stripped off the walls with nothing replacing it. But, Son loves it and he is the envy of all his friends. It's not a huge room, but it has a love seat, game chair, Wii, XBOX, LCD TV, DVD player, ping pong table, weights. You get the picture. It's a Man-Cave.

Son has a very nice bedroom, brand new in everyway, thanks Hurricane Ike. However, most summer nights and weekend nights he chooses to even sleep in the Man-Cave. During the evenings he only ventures out of the Man-Cave to eat, use the restroom, or when forced against his will. It's his domain and he loves it.

"So, you want nine boys to spend the night," I restate, hoping it sounds less frightening this time.

"Yeah, nine boys, Mom. Remember, we've been talking about doing the trombone thing,"

"Yes, I remember. So, who all is coming?" I ask.

He lists off the nine boys, most of whom I have known for years and are very good boys.

"OK, you can do this, but I have a few conditions: First of all, I'm not feeding everyone. They all have to eat supper before they come and bring a 2-liter drink and a snack. Secondly, they all have to leave by 10:00am tomorrow morning, and third, you may not keep us up all night playing your trombones."

Son agrees and says, "We're not even gonna play our trombones. CD, plays drums anyway."

"But, I thought it was a trombone thing?" I ask.

"It is," says Son.

O.....K?

So, it's all settled. Over the next 24 hours, the texts begin.

Parent #1: "Are you really having all nine boys spend the night?"

Parent #2: "You're braver than I am. Hope you have ear plugs."

Parent #3: "God bless you."

Friday night, the boys started arriving around 7:30pm, just like clock work. All were obedient, with their backpacks, snacks and 2-liters in tow. I finished making my snacks for Son's contribution and plopped myself onto the couch for a Hallmark movie marathon (Hubby was gone on to a conference.) I was never once eisturbed.

Basically, the boys had a great time. I don't think they got any sleep, but they came inside from Hide-N-Seek in the dark at midnight, nothing got broken or messed up, and they even cleaned up after themselves! AND, a very minimal amount of noise! (No trombone OR drum playing at all.)

The next morning I work them up around nine (they were all sleeping all over the floor, not one with a blanket or pillow. Why? Don't know), and made a little breakfast for them. While I was in the dining room eating my breakfast, I listened in while they sat around the breakfast table eating. They all talked about school starting. Half of the boys were juniors and the other half were sophomores, like Son. They discussed what Pre-AP and AP classes they were taking, how to survive certain teachers and excitement over the band drill. Then, just as they arrived the night before, they all filed out around 9:30am, stopping to thank me and give me a hug.

Later, Son comes in and asks, "So, Mom, were we bad?"

I laughed and said, "No, you guys were great!" I told him how proud I was of him for his friend choices and told him he could do it again soon.

He smiled, "Thanks, Mom. For everything."

And he was off...back to the Man-Cave...

My take is this: friends are a huge part of most teenagers' lives. But friends can MAKE them or BREAK them. I always want to be "that" home, where the action is happening. Not only do I get brownie points with Son, I also know who his friends are and what everyone is up to.

After a very successful night with nine teen boys in my home, as I listened to their conversations, I realized that I am incredibly blessed that my son has friends who are respectful, smart, responsible, obedient, hard-working, and all around great kids. My hat is off to all parents who somehow figure out to raise good kids in a world where so much that is grabbing for their attention is bad.

Some people worry about the next generation. Me? Not so much!

What's your take?