Teenagers are so weird.
Not necessarily in a bad way, though sometimes yes. Just weird, like inviting an alien to live in your house.
If you’ve spent five minutes with Calen, you know he’s obsessed with cars. Like, actually obsessed. This isn’t new, he’s been infatuated with them since he was six months old (literally, I have photo proof). There are worse hobbies, so I entertain it.
On the way home from Swim Club today, Calen pointed out a car in the parking lot. He BEGGED me to pull over so he could identify the make and model. I told him, “I’m not letting you creep into someone’s car to check out what kind it is!”
His argument: “I’m not creeping IN the car, I just want to walk around it.”
Me: “that’s still creepy.”
But I relented, and pulled over, and announced that he had exactly 30 seconds to inspect the car.
Calen launched himself out of the car, walked around, soaked it in, and did some “hmmm and hawwww” faces.
 |
| Literally hmmming and hawwwing |
I had to roll down my car window to verbally pull him back into ours.
He gave me the full report, but honestly I wasn’t listening that much. He said Pontiac, and I zoned out after that.
Like I said, there are worse hobbies.
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