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A week or so ago, The Girl turned 18. In celebration, I had talked for days about "doing something big." Her plans to hang with friends had fallen through, a situation that really couldn't be helped when your peeps are big dorks and you are their leader.

On Saturday night, I announced a definite trip to a coaster park about 2 hours away. This plan had been discussed off and on for at least a week as an alternative to The Girl's other plans, so the announcement should not have been a surprise to anyone. The Boy's reaction to the news came as a complete surprise to everyone.

He was beyond cross.

He claimed we had not given him enough notice to be ready for a trip to anywhere, let alone to a coaster park. Most kids would have been overjoyed to spend the day riding roller-coasters, eating junk food, and buying souvenirs, even if it means hanging out with your dorky family. Not this kid.

So Sunday dawns and he refused to get out of bed, declaring that he just wasn't ready and that we should have been more considerate of his feelings (!). We left him home. It was just too much drama for me to legitimize it by begging and pleading.

Fast-forward to today, where I announce that on Saturday, tomorrow, he was going to get his flu shot. Holy cow! Listening to him rant and rave over a lack of advance notice, you would have thought I had just told him he had an amputation scheduled.

It is now obvious to one and all that Mr Dramapants needs more than 24-hours' notice for anything. And I thought I was a big dork.