Chase and His Hoopty, Jungle Buggy.

And boy does it look like it belongs in the jungle. Deep in the jungle. It’s a story I must tell. Like every mother, I think I have the best kids. Mine are perfect little angels. Right?

Wrong! Recently, Chase and I had our first adult to adult, almost combat worthy fight. He called the situation “omission”, while I called a spade a spade. This spade was a BIG fat lie in this White Madea’s (as the boys have both called me under their breath more than once) Book of Wrongdoings. This was war. Clearly the rules were on Page one, Chapter one. The 3 little rules I have, regardless of how old you are and if you pay your own bills are:

  1. Do NOT lie to me. Ever.
  2. Abstain from Drinking and Drugs
  3. Do NOT ever buy a motorcycle. Do NOT even look at them or sit on someone else’s.

Chase broke rule numbers 1 and 2 when he was a young teenager and had “Stupid” written across on his forehead. He credits Preston to saving his life to this very day. If you have seen the movie Madea’s Family Reunion, there is a scene that involves a heavy pot and grits, I was THAT mad. One thing was clear, I was not going to have a drunk or a liar living in my home. As far a I know, Chase was a altar boy from that moment on. Hah!

Fast forward several years until recently. I couldn’t be more proud of Chase. He’s almost 21 years old. He’s got his own home and owns his own vehicles. He’s never asked me to help pay a single bill or get him out of a financial pickle. He’s so tight that he can make a dollar squeak. He’s got a job that he loves and has worked his way up from being the grunt worker to a respected crew leader. He lives within his means and will be the first to give his last $5 to our homeless friend, George.

But my perfect boy lied to his mama.

The story goes something like this….

I called him one afternoon and asked about stopping by his home to see him. He told me not to come, that he was not home. No problem. Except, I decided I’d drop off something for him under his carport. Earlier that day, I had seen a shiny black and chrome bike in my brother’s driveway. I remember thinking to myself that if he’d gotten a bike, that my sister in law needed to borrow my skillet! Later, I pulled in Chase’s driveway and what was sitting under his carport? That shiny black and chrome bike!! I was livid!

Rules 1 and 3 were broken.

Madea was back and she was beyond irate.

Before you put your two cents in and try to tell me that my son is an adult, and pays his own bills, and blah, blah, blah… just shut the pie hole, please. These boys are MY boys. The ones I raised. The ones that I have prayed over night after night. I’m the one that set the alarms to make sure that I was up and knew they made it home by curfew. I’m the one that counted quarters to make sure tuition was paid. I’ve never been that cool mama that smoked weed with them or blew off small infractions as “boys will be boys”. Until you’ve walked in my shoes and lived my life, you don’t have a dog bone in this fight. And I mean that with all due respect. I’ve lost so much in this lifetime, that l fear that losing my boys to a motorcycle is something that I can not bear. We all have fears. 2 of these 3 rules are mine are my fears.

Of course Chase’s version is that he didn’t “lie”. He just chose not to tell me. He later told me that he had people in the neighborhood that called and warn him that there was a mad, white Madea sitting in his driveway. Lol. This was a couple of months ago.

This past week, Chase Facetimed to tell me that he had some good news to tell me. The bike was gone. But he had a new toy. And this one, he thought I’d be happy with. He said she had 4 wheels.

A Hoopty.

He first described her as something similar to what Preston has, A Polaris Ranger 4×4. He had gotten him something to ride the trails behind our house and take to the Broken Nut and ride in the creeks and mud. I was happy for him. I told him to send me a picture of the new woman in his life.

Let me tell you, his new woman is the ugliest thing I have ever seen in my life. I can not even describe her to you. I don’t even know who can come up with this stuff and create something that literally has washing machine and dryer parts recycled on it. But Chase is in love. He says she has “soul”.

Yesterday, in the middle of a different conversation, Chase commented that he felt his last name was wrong in someone’s eyes and made them view him differently. I was stunned but I reassured him that he didn’t ever need to be ashamed of his last name, because it was his daddy’s name. I reminded him that his daddy had been a beautiful soul inside and out. For that reason alone, he should always proudly wear his name.

Yesterday’s conversation reminded me of just how much Chase is like his daddy. His daddy would have also jumped at the chance to own this same hoopty and have him some good ol’ boy country fun in it. I can’t count all the times he would come home with wheels, and gears, and just about anything that could be made into something. The washing machine parts on the hoopty are something that have his name written all over them. All these years later, I can finally say I am so thankful that Joseph brought all that “junk” home.

As always, I’ve forgiven my boy for breaking the rules. Now I’m ready to see him go out and have some fun with his buddies, slinging mud and having a good ol’ time in their jungle buggies. Make your daddy proud and have a little extra fun for him!

Just always make sure no alcohol is involved, and that it has 4 wheels, and that you never ever lie about it!

Thanking God for a father’s legacy, mud, and 4 wheels.

The White Madea

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