In a Family Way

Two guys, two unruly kids, and a lesson in hilarious love

| January / February 2003

“I DO NOT HAVE time to teach boys,” says Evangeline, our de facto foster daughter. She shows us how she dumped her boyfriend Jarred this morning with a talk-to-the-hand gesture and the immortal line, “Clean your shit outta my locker—you bore me.” Evangeline is part Janeane Garofalo, part Divine Miss M. She is the funniest human we know. Jarred, who we secretly referred to as “Silky Sideburns,” is more of an Al Gore, low on humor. “You do the math,” she says.

A week ago, we caught them cuddling under a blanket watching The Iron Giant, and I was sure there were tears in Jarred’s eyes. Now we are informed that his sweetness, his charm, and indeed, that mist in his eyes all arose out of reefer. “Lots and lots of doobage, guys.” Hmm. We were right way back when we were their age: Parents really are almost unbelievably stupid.

So we want to learn, we say. Teach us, please, oh Master.

Well, turns out Evy also disapproved of his chronic masturbation. “Oh, all boys do that, sweetheart,” said we.

“No, but he’s on it so much he’s been missing appointments,” said she. What’s more, we now know—as Evy turns toward the Mac to plug her Spanish homework through something called—Jarred got the heave-ho, in part, for his failures in bed.

“‘Okay, heeeere’s the road,’ I tell him,” she says. “And you’re way off here, like, in the forest.’”