Proof of Life

I don’t know if we all use the saying “proof of life” or not, but I think maybe so. I grew up with it, so I don’t rightly know when I learned it or under what pretense. I just know that it’s always been used in my family. But apparently I forgot to pass it along to my son in a timely manner, which, of course, created a funny story. At least I think it’s funny. And really that’s all that matters.

Now, this may turn into one of those “put on your seatbelt” kind of stories, where it makes perfect sense in my mind, but doesn’t exactly get put on paper in the most cohesive way. So hang on for the ride. I promise it’ll all come together in the end. Maybe.

Last year my son took a little road trip to see a friend out of town. I gave him ample time to arrive and get settled, and when I hadn’t heard from him, I sent him a text. Simply said, “Proof of Life when you get there, please.” Four hours later, which is rather quick for him, he replied “Like a drivers license?” Y’all. I died. I was humored and stabbed in the heart all at once. Clearly I have failed.

I replied, “I’m gonna beat you. No, smarty pants, like a selfie. In other words, let me know you got there safely.” To which he actually replied with a selfie of him and his friend, in just under a minute. Hopefully we have all learned something valuable from this little exercise.

The next occasion he had to go see his friend, we went through the steps once more, to see if any of us had actually learned anything. And bless behold, as Reva would say, within a minute I got a selfie of him and his friend. So, I sent one back of me and The Lawyer, because two can play this game. I said, “great picture of y’all, although I gotta say, I kind of expected a picture of your driver’s license.” He replied, “should’ve sent the birth certificate.”

My kid is, apparently, the funny parrot on the family tree.

Then, a few months later, he went to Tampa to see his buddy Nate. (My favorite phrase about Nate is, “Nate can have whatever Nate wants.” I’ll share that little story another day) So I sent a text, “Proof of life, please. Mostly of Nate. Haven’t seen his face in ages.” The kid actually complied! Maybe we have learned something!

Then 6 months later he went to see Nate again. I sent the obligatory “Proof of life” text and got a picture of the dog. Not a bad play, son. We all love Harley. (that’s a whole other story, too)

So we fast forward about two months and I need to give you this side story. The kid needed to pay his rent and his venmo wasn’t working. He called me and we did some troubleshooting and finally got it worked out. When I went to dinner that evening, I was telling The Lawyer about it all, not looking for any kind of advice or solution, just sharing my day, but oohhhh did I get an ear full. Good grief. I got a whole Ted talk about how the kid needs a check book and needs to write a check for his rent and needs to know how to have a checking account and needs to write a check for his bills and why doesn’t he have a check book and he could write checks for so many things and he needs a check book and can you see why I was losing my need for dinner and oh my gosh just stop it already about the check book.

So I picked up my fork and tried not to jab him or my own eyeballs and explained to his “mature” self that kids today don’t do checkbooks and do everything online and that’s just how it is and his way is good but antiquated and there’s no changing how it is and kids don’t know how to write checks and yes society will fall and they’ll be lost and unable to function but that’s just how it is and stop fussing at me over something I didn’t do I was just sharing a story and eat your dinner before I stab you with this fork.

Sorry. Did I lose consciousness for just a second there? Did YOU? yeah, sometimes it’s like that.

On the way home from that eye-crossing dinner, I called the kid and had him on speaker in the car. I told him about my conversation with The Lawyer and since I had to suffer, so did he, and when I said, “Joseph says you need a check book,” his reply was, “What am I, 80?!?!”

I couldn’t breathe.

Just so happens that I needed to pick up The Lawyer in the street (had to leave the truck by the road, not worth telling you why) but anyway, The Lawyer got in the car and the kid was still on speaker. So I dutifully made sure all parties involved were well aware they could be heard by all parties involved and proceeded to ask the kid, “remember at the genesis of this little chat when I said “The Lawyer said you needed a check book”? What was your response?” The kid GLADLY said again, “What am I, 80?!?!” To which The Lawyer spewed an obscenity or three and then the three of us just laughed and laughed and laughed. Or was it just two of us?

They had a riveting and comical conversation about it all and the conclusion is just what you’d expect: the “mature” one was quasi ticked off and the “young” one was unphased. Ahh, all is as it should be in the world.

All that to say, this checkbook thing has become a “thing.”

Me to The Lawyer: The kid is going to XYZ this weekend….blah blah

The Lawyer: Tell him to take his checkbook in case he needs XYZ….

Me to the kid: The Lawyer is going on a business trip tomorrow….

The kid: tell him to take his checkbook in case he needs…..

I feel like I’m refereeing in the checkbook volley national championship.

So let me let you go from this misery and circle the wagons, or this story as it were.

A few weeks ago we had a hurricane coming right for our front porch. (The trajectory was literally three quarters of a mile from our house) So we packed up and evacuated. I kept the kid informed of our plans, not that he was all that concerned, but so that if anything happened he could get the Will and go on with my millions. After being gone a couple of days, it was all clear to return to the Brooks Barracks (the storm took a last-minute turn and missed us). We arrived to things just as we left them, and thankful hearts. But then several hours later, I got the text. Y’all. I died. The kid sent: “proof of life”.

Maybe he actually does love me a little bit.

My first thought was, “ooooo I should send a picture of my driver license.” But then. Then I had the moment of clarity which only comes on rare occasion to me. The piece de resistance. The golden scepter. The Hope diamond.

I sent him a photo of Joseph holding his checkbook.

Don’t ever underestimate the mama.

It was one of the most epic comebacks I’ve ever had. I will forever be proud of myself for the brilliance I displayed. It was a once in a lifetime extravaganza. I may have hit my peak.

So there ya go. A story probably not funny to you, but hilarious to me, because I’m easily amused, and mostly at myself. So the next time somebody asks you for proof of life, send them a picture of your checkbook. Just make sure you cover the account number. 😉