Kimberly Jensen
I was just finishing up the dishes today as I looked out the window and saw my 12-year-old son walking up the sidewalk with his head down and his hands in his pockets. "Uh-oh," I thought as I recognized his defeated look. He walked in the backdoor and sighed. "What's up bud?" I asked as he landed hard onto the couch in the family room. "My friends are going back to their house to play Halo," he said. I felt my body cringe. I have seen the reviews of this M-rated video game and am appalled that this type of violence is considered entertainment for young boys. I didn't apologize to my son for enforcing a rule of no M-games at our house or allowing them to play them at anyone else's home. I am constantly surprised that our society to let our youth be exposed to such senseless violence and call it entertainment. Maybe they don't know that "M" stands for mature audiences only, the same way the "R" stands for restricted. I think the "M" also stand for "My Mother Won't Let Me," and I am just fine with that.
Showing posts with label Volkswagon Summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Volkswagon Summer. Show all posts
Friday, March 28, 2008
Volkswagon Summer Post #8
Kimberly Jensen
The next morning my mom relieved me of babysitting my little brother. She said my dad was in need of my help instead. I was thrilled to be out of the garage and away from the strangers who rummaged through our personal belongings. I pulled my hair up into a pony tail and met my dad at the side of the house. He had his carpenter belt on and near his feet were board, nails, hammers and all sorts of other equipment I didn't know the names of. "Grab that board and hold it up while I hammer this other one in place," my dad said with a determined look on his face. "What are you building?" I asked. "A platform for the van. I'm going to pull out the middle seat and fit this right in there. That way you can lay down and be comfortable all the way to California," he said, as he hammered the first leg into place. "A platform? You mean we can hang out in the back and sleep laying down?" "Yep," he said as he measured the wood for the second leg. I thought the platform was a pretty cool idea. I could sleep the whole way there and possibly avoid any those embarassing songs and games my family insisted on singing. "Hey, is Jessie going?" I asked timidly. "She's trying to get the time off work. I've asked her to try harder." Jessie was my older sister. She had graduated the year before from high school and was hardly ever home. She was working at the local 7-11 and taking a few classes at the community college. I looked up to her, but I don't think she even knew I existed. I think she just saw me as a pesky younger sister who begged her for rides and borrowed her clothes when she wasn't home. Jessie had an eternal tan and wore the coolest jeans and highlighted her hair. Her natural curls bounced on her shoulders and her lips were never without shiny, pink lipgloss. I adored her and wanted to be just like her.
The next morning my mom relieved me of babysitting my little brother. She said my dad was in need of my help instead. I was thrilled to be out of the garage and away from the strangers who rummaged through our personal belongings. I pulled my hair up into a pony tail and met my dad at the side of the house. He had his carpenter belt on and near his feet were board, nails, hammers and all sorts of other equipment I didn't know the names of. "Grab that board and hold it up while I hammer this other one in place," my dad said with a determined look on his face. "What are you building?" I asked. "A platform for the van. I'm going to pull out the middle seat and fit this right in there. That way you can lay down and be comfortable all the way to California," he said, as he hammered the first leg into place. "A platform? You mean we can hang out in the back and sleep laying down?" "Yep," he said as he measured the wood for the second leg. I thought the platform was a pretty cool idea. I could sleep the whole way there and possibly avoid any those embarassing songs and games my family insisted on singing. "Hey, is Jessie going?" I asked timidly. "She's trying to get the time off work. I've asked her to try harder." Jessie was my older sister. She had graduated the year before from high school and was hardly ever home. She was working at the local 7-11 and taking a few classes at the community college. I looked up to her, but I don't think she even knew I existed. I think she just saw me as a pesky younger sister who begged her for rides and borrowed her clothes when she wasn't home. Jessie had an eternal tan and wore the coolest jeans and highlighted her hair. Her natural curls bounced on her shoulders and her lips were never without shiny, pink lipgloss. I adored her and wanted to be just like her.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Volkswagon Summer Post #7
Kimberly Jensen
I couldn't stop them from skating into the driveway. My mom has always been friendly to the neighborhood kids and was many of my friend's favorite mothers, but I always cringed when she opened her mouth, sure she was going to say something to the boys that would surely embarass me. "Hey boys, do you know my daughter," as I walked up the sidewalk, hoping to slip behind the tree and into the house without being noticed. "Hey," they said in unison. "Hey" I said back hoping that my mom would go back to her business and leave me alone. I wasn't so lucky. She took them for a tour of the garage sale, picking up items she thought young boys would be interested in such as; stereo speakers, old 8-track tapes, my brother's old tennis shoes. Thank goodness she didn't pick up anything of mine to show them. They politely declined my mother's sales tactics and scooted out of the driveway. Day one of my mother's garage sale was coming to a close and that meant just three more days until we left our annual vacation to the California Coast.
I couldn't stop them from skating into the driveway. My mom has always been friendly to the neighborhood kids and was many of my friend's favorite mothers, but I always cringed when she opened her mouth, sure she was going to say something to the boys that would surely embarass me. "Hey boys, do you know my daughter," as I walked up the sidewalk, hoping to slip behind the tree and into the house without being noticed. "Hey," they said in unison. "Hey" I said back hoping that my mom would go back to her business and leave me alone. I wasn't so lucky. She took them for a tour of the garage sale, picking up items she thought young boys would be interested in such as; stereo speakers, old 8-track tapes, my brother's old tennis shoes. Thank goodness she didn't pick up anything of mine to show them. They politely declined my mother's sales tactics and scooted out of the driveway. Day one of my mother's garage sale was coming to a close and that meant just three more days until we left our annual vacation to the California Coast.
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