Monstrous Mother

So I'm watching the news this week and a story comes on about a 14-year-old girl who died - DIED - from drinking two Monster energy drinks.

Immediately I flash on multiple instances of me caving in to the Boy's pleas for a Monster, a RockStar, or one of the other iterations of apparently canned crack.  "Sure, buddy", I've said time and again, "but just one, OK?  I don't think they're good for you."

Not good for you?  Well, in my own defense, I wasn't aware that they can be fatal, but in my heart I know that I often sacrifice parental good judgment in the name of being his pal.

And who wouldn't want to be his pal?  He's funny, smart and good-looking, plus he loves Jesus and his Mom and Dad.  He's an avid reader and gamer and skater and tae-kwon-do-er, and I just plain old think he's cool.

But he doesn't need a pal - he needs a mom.  A mom who won't buy him death in a can anymore, because she loves him more than her own life.