'Yusef! You get out of my car right now!' I shout. 'But Mom, I'm only sitting in the car listening to music.' he answers back.
Lately Yusef has this idea that he can go off in my car for a joy ride every time he sees it parked in front of our building. When he's not riding around in my car he's sitting in it with his cousin listening to music.
'You are only thirteen years old! You get out of the car this instant!' I say in a loud and irritated voice. 'I'm fourteen!' says Yusef. 'You are NOT fourteen. Your birthday is not until next month and even so you are still not old enough to drive a car!'
Yusef has been practicing driving his father's truck around the farm. Two weeks ago, on the second day of Eid he lost control of the truck and drove it into a tree, much to the displeasure of his father.
Last night Yusef came in to tell me that he had moved my car in order to wash it and scraped it on the gate. 'It's dark outside Yusef! You never want to wash the car in the daylight. What makes you think I would believe that you would wash the car after dark?' I asked in total disbelief. I'm afraid to go out and look at what he claims is a 'small scrape'. 'Oh, and I knocked my head against the rear-view mirror and it fell off. But it should be easy to fix.' Yusef said sheepishly. How do you knock your head against the rear-view mirror I wondered.
Am I supposed to keep my car keys stuffed safely in my bra? How do you beat your son when he towers above you? I hate shouting at the kids... everyone in the neighbourhood can hear.
Yusef is downstairs 'fixing' the mirror. I can hear that he has turned on the car. He's revving the engine. I'm gonna kill that boy!
I am so fed up with the drama caused by teenagers... sigh
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