He’ll huff, he’ll puff, he’ll scram from his mom

I‘ve heard about greased pig races – you know, when you slather a can of Crisco on a little porker and turn him loose in a crowd of hopeful pig-catchers – all my life. But, having never actually seen one, I had no idea just how hard the chasers worked. That is until this summer. You see, I’ve been trying to get my hands on my boy.

And, after chasing him for the last few weeks, I’m willing to put my 18-year-old son up against anything the state fair has to offer. He’s as fast as greased lightning.

I’ve got a few projects I’d like him to take care of. He’s agreeable. If I can catch him. It’s not that he hides from me. Well, not exactly. But he always has a got good excuse.

He has a set of wheels and a steady girl. That alone makes him pretty hard to snag. But the fact that I’m chasing him to get a little work out of him gives him an extra boost of energy and he picks up speed.

If you ask a child, he’ll tell you one of the most annoying habits of any mother is that she insists on sharing the workload. This is, in the eyes of a child, unfair. It forces the grim burden of the daily drudgery of life onto the salad days of their youth.

As far as children are concerned, it is unfortunate that life requires a certain amount of upkeep, but they don’t see any connection to them. That is an adult problem. Unfortunately, even when they become adults, it takes a while (and a whole lot of prodding by a determined parent) to help them see that it is now their responsibility as well.

I’ve learned to draw a household corollary to my children’s developmental milestones. For instance, learning to program a VCR or DVD player meant that one was also ready to master the washing machine.

You say you figured out how to make s’mores in the microwave? Great. Now, here’s the dishwasher…

Anyone who can set up a wireless Internet network, without reading the directions, can handle the vacuum cleaner.

My children see this kind of attitude as a way to take the joy out of everything. I see it as a way to help them grow into independent adults who can shoulder responsibility and do what needs to be done.

Oh. Same thing.

But back to my slippery boy…He’s doing what we’d all like to do: enjoying his summer and spending time with his girl. Ever the killjoy, I want a little bite out of all that free time. I want to make him work.

In his defense, he isn’t defiant. He’s willing to do the work. Providing I can catch him and hold him long enough to see that he gets the job done. So far, that has proven to be difficult.

So, if you see a tall, good-looking, happy-go-lucky guy behind the wheel with a pretty girl at his side let me know. It might be my boy.

Here’s how you can tell: You’ll know it’s him if, when you show him a paintbrush, he squeals and runs in another direction.