I had to be SUCH a parent this weekend.

We were having a wonderful weekend. Both Johnny and Jimmy were here. There were two friends with kids parties on Saturday which kept us busy and then my friend Bruce and his family were in town. As an adopted member of the family we ended up there for a spaghetti dinner which turned into swimming in his sister's pool until almost 11PM.

Sunday was a whole day spent back at his sister's for a cookout and hours marinating in chlorine. They even had a cake for my birthday. The boys were getting along, even though John had fought hard to make this trip solo. It was fantastic.

Until we got home. I was ready to fire up a movie and they complained that we were out of soda. I gave them some money and sent them off to the convenience store just down the street; a simple 15 minute walk back and forth.

After 20 minutes I began to get concerned.

Then at thirty minutes I was out at the end of the drive way peering into the 10:30PM darkness at the end of the street.

15 minuets later I was in the car and speeding off with adrenalin pumping.

The convenience store that were headed for was closed. I assumed they might have headed for another one just down the street. Off I sped.

Let me take this moment to describe myself at this point. I had jumped into he car clad only in shorts and a t-shirt. My hair was frazzled from a day in pool water and was pulled back in a single pony tail. Remebering, though, this was hair that had spent that day soaking in chlorinated water; so it was thin, brittle and created a wild "Manson" look as I stuck my wild-eyed head into the Cumberland Farms asking in anyone had seen my two wayward boys. I'm sure the fact my forehead was a sun-burned red only added to this lunatic-like image.

They, apparently had not been there, so I headed off in another direction towards the only two remaining convenience stores all the time rehearsing my call to the sheriff's office.

I did find them about four blocks away from the trailer on their return trip, soda bottles in hand. I would have loved to have been able to hear their conversation as I turned the van around but it was drowned out by the screeching tires.

As soon as the door opened, the excuses began to fly. "SHUT UP!" I yelled and the air was immediately sucked from the van.

We returned home and I ordered them inside while I tried to calm myself and put in some semblance of order what I wanted to say. While the adrenalin rush has wiped most of it from my memory I do believe I made very salient points about how difficult a divorce their mother and I had and how not so well received a phone call would be telling her I had somehow "misplaced" the both of them. They tried defending themselves but like every lecture I remembered from my youth I had an answer for everything they said that immediately shut them down to mute piles on the furniture.

I tired to spread the blame and vent the anger at the both of them evenly. One of the biggest issues I hit on was how we were working towards John being able to make the trip by rail by himself and that a screw-up like this certainly wouldn't help prove his point.

I didn't rant, I didn't rave and I don't think I really raised my voice more than once as I very clearly laid out just how pissed off I was. I did channel my mother as I said "Well, no, you didn't think". I was fair enough to them that, when it was over, I admitted exactly how much "like a parent" I sounded.

Before they went to sleep I told them both, separately and privately, that I realized that I might have overreacted a slight bit, but that the stakes are high and they did seem to see my point.

Of course, as I type this now I remember from my own youth, that I usually just let a lot of it go in one ear and right out the other. Time will tell just how deep genetics goes.