My Bad...That's Not An Apology!
Within ten minutes this morning, I heard "my bad" uttered twice in my house. I don't hate the phrase "my bad" (unlike some phrases which set my teeth on edge. "From the get go", I'm talking about you. There is no get go. The runners do not line up at the get go. But that's another blog entirely.) Anyway, what annoyed me about the "my bads" I heard was that they were used in lieu of an apology. I contend that "my bad" is not in an of itself an apology.
Last night, I was about to go to bed (been totally exhausted all week) but son number 2 was still hanging out with some friends. So, I texted him to remind him to feed and water his lizard. (I further contend that I shouldn't have to remind him of this because he's sixteen but again, that's another blog.)
I got up this morning and the lizard still had no food and water.
Me: Did you get my text?
Son Number 2: I didn't see it. I went right to bed when I came in.
Me: Your phone is perpetually glued to your head. Don't lie to your mother.
Son Number 2: (at least having the decency to look sheepish) Well. okay. I didn't feed or water the lizard. My bad.
Then, I went to bring that same child to school but his brother's car was in the way. (Our driveway fits three cars but not side by side. Somebody is always in someone else's way at least for another few weeks when the town lifts the overnight on street winter parking ban.) I don't necessarily mind moving his car as he often works late but I really appreciate it if he leaves his keys downstairs, so I can do that.
Today, he didn't. So, I had to schlep back upstairs (did I mention I've been exhausted this week?) to get his keys.
Me: I need your keys.
Son Number One: (gesturing vaguely, half asleep to where the keys were tossed on the floor) My bad (he mumbled and went immediately back to sleep).
Now, in general, my kids are not rude or inconsiderate people although like every other human, they have their moments. But the "my bad" get me. I already know it's your bad. I know who ignored my text and his bearded dragon. I saw the empty dishes in her cage. I know who failed to leave his keys downstairs. Acknowledging that the bad is yours doesn't really say you're sorry. Terrorists acknowledge that they blew something up but they're generally not remorseful about it.
On the way to school, I asked the younger son about it. How bad would your bad have to be to actually warrant a real apology? I admitted that there was likely a continuum of badness although he wasn't really clear about where various infractions would fall.
Is it me? Am I just being old here or is my bad a really bad substitute for an apology?
Last night, I was about to go to bed (been totally exhausted all week) but son number 2 was still hanging out with some friends. So, I texted him to remind him to feed and water his lizard. (I further contend that I shouldn't have to remind him of this because he's sixteen but again, that's another blog.)
I got up this morning and the lizard still had no food and water.
Me: Did you get my text?
Son Number 2: I didn't see it. I went right to bed when I came in.
Me: Your phone is perpetually glued to your head. Don't lie to your mother.
Son Number 2: (at least having the decency to look sheepish) Well. okay. I didn't feed or water the lizard. My bad.
Then, I went to bring that same child to school but his brother's car was in the way. (Our driveway fits three cars but not side by side. Somebody is always in someone else's way at least for another few weeks when the town lifts the overnight on street winter parking ban.) I don't necessarily mind moving his car as he often works late but I really appreciate it if he leaves his keys downstairs, so I can do that.
Today, he didn't. So, I had to schlep back upstairs (did I mention I've been exhausted this week?) to get his keys.
Me: I need your keys.
Son Number One: (gesturing vaguely, half asleep to where the keys were tossed on the floor) My bad (he mumbled and went immediately back to sleep).
Now, in general, my kids are not rude or inconsiderate people although like every other human, they have their moments. But the "my bad" get me. I already know it's your bad. I know who ignored my text and his bearded dragon. I saw the empty dishes in her cage. I know who failed to leave his keys downstairs. Acknowledging that the bad is yours doesn't really say you're sorry. Terrorists acknowledge that they blew something up but they're generally not remorseful about it.
On the way to school, I asked the younger son about it. How bad would your bad have to be to actually warrant a real apology? I admitted that there was likely a continuum of badness although he wasn't really clear about where various infractions would fall.
Is it me? Am I just being old here or is my bad a really bad substitute for an apology?
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