Big brother playing 'Let's Make a Deal'

Lori Clinch

Are We There Yet?

There's something quite special about my eldest child. He's the one who rules the roost, bosses his brothers and oftentimes enjoys telling unwanted callers, "My mom says she's not home."

All these things considered, I suppose I should have rethought the idea of leaving my 17-year-old alone in the car with two of his younger brothers the other morning.

Yet I tell you this, you show me a person out there who truly believes that leaving two teenagers and one prepubescent child in the car is not the thing to do, and I'll show you someone who has never ran into the grocery store with two teenagers and one prepubescent child.

In fact, leaving them in the car was a lot easier to do than one might think. After all, I only needed a couple of condiments, a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread. I grabbed my fourth and youngest child and headed off for a quick trip so I could keep the family in produce.

The younger children said I had no sooner disappeared into the store than Vernon, my all-knowing 17-year-old, began to rummage the cargo areas of the Suburban. They said he looked in the ashtrays, the cubbyholes and the deep pockets along the seats. They said he didn't show much emotion or explain as to why he was rummaging. They said he just started to look and continued to search like a federal agent with a purpose.

They said when he found my emergency change and chewing gum compartment, he held it to the heavens and shouted out, "Score!"

With that, they said my 17-year-old climbed in behind the wheel, turned the ignition key and headed for the fast-food restaurant across the street.

"What's the cheapest thing you have going on the breakfast menu?" the younger boys said Vernon asked the lady at the drive-up speaker.

"Beg your pardon?" the woman asked.

"With tax and special considerations, what would it take to put me into something like a sausage and egg biscuit this morning?"

"Do you want cheese?"

"That depends on what kind of money we're talking about," Vernon replied to the loud speaker as he leaned out the window. For reasons we may never understand, the kid seemed to think he was on "Let's Make a Deal."

"Well," the woman in the speaker replied, "with cheese it would come to $2.12."

"What would you think if I offered you $1.87, a Wendy's coupon and a stick of chewing gum?"

"I'd think you'd better forgo the cheese."

"Would you throw in a carton of milk?"

"Not for a stick of chewing gum. Don't you have any more money?"

"No, but I do have my mother's traveling coffee mug."

"I think you'd better stick with a free glass of water."

The younger boys were not only appalled that Vernon had the audacity to drive away with only one sausage/egg biscuit, but that he was actually brazen enough to settle for just one free water.

I can only assume as I was rounding the corner in the pastry section and snatching up a loaf of bread, that Vernon must have been pulling back into the grocery store parking lot. I can only guess that he must have looked smug as he unwrapped his breakfast sandwich. I'm sure he raised an eyebrow, smiled to his younger brothers and then threw his head back in satisfaction as he took the first big and gratifying bite.

I can only guess these things you understand, because as he was in my car and torturing his younger siblings, I was in the store making careful considerations to family nutrition and paying homage to the four food groups.

It was reported to me that not only did Vernon not share, but that he made certain that each and every bite he took was excruciating to his brothers as they watched him consume it. They said he ate his breakfast sandwich slowly and deliberately, and used descriptive adjectives to describe each morsel. They said he not only hogged the entire sandwich, but that he slowly passed it under their hungry noses to make certain they got a good whiff of the sausage, the egg and the biscuit that were all living in peaceful harmony right there in his breakfast feast.

And when they protested his selfishness and begged him to share, they said Vernon looked at them and said with his mouth full, "Hey, if you don't like the show, change the channel."

Ah yes, the eldest child. He's quite special all right.

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.