by Kathy Fortune M.D.

Created on: November 04, 2008   Last Updated: November 20, 2008

MY TEENAGE SON

When I took my 14-year-old son shopping for clothes, he told me I needed to hide because he would die if his friends saw him with his mother. I then suggested that I could drive with my feet.

Before leaving home, instructions were given. First, my son did not want me to ask him to try on anything. I was also asked, no told, that I should maintain a minimal distance of 10 feet from him at all times.

We left the house after I grabbed a brown grocery bag from the kitchen counter. I tore out two holes for my eyes and bit the bag to make an opening for my mouth. With that, we were out the door. Let's see what his friends say now.

At the store, I kept my distance as told and stayed near the door with the parked bicycles and the leashed dogs tied to the posts. I wondered how I had allowed myself to be reduced to standing in the dog section, all in the name of trying to be a good mother.

Eventually, I slowly crept into the back of the store and found the underwear section. I saw my son busily picking out clothes in another area. He did not see me, but the moment I placed four pairs of beautiful silk boxer lounging shorts into the cart, "Casper" magically appeared. He said, "I know you are not buying those for me." I said, "No way, darling."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that he had his usual - five pairs of black jeans, five black shirts, five pairs of black socks, a pair of black athletic shoes and, thankfully, there was at least one pair of beige pants in the pile.

At home, the sweetheart child immediately went downstairs to put his new clothes away and continued to refuse the lounging shorts. While he was in his room, I strategically placed the shorts on the back of the couch. It was like placing cheese in a mousetrap. I kept thinking about the "what if you are in an accident" story that my mother told me.

Three hours went by and he had not touched the shorts, so I decided that I would keep them for myself, but I could not find them. When I turned around, I saw my son proudly walking up the stairs, in my blue silk lounging shorts. The other pairs had already been neatly tucked away. I stared at him and he looked back like he was puzzled. Then he said, "What? What?" I said, "What? You are now technically wearing your mother's underwear. That's what!" He managed a faint smile and said, "Mom, you so funny" and headed straight to his computer.

The next day, he dressed for school wearing his new beige slacks. He looked great, but stop the music! I looked a

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