My etiquette lessons aren't working

Mark and I were driving in the car the other day, listening to NPR (see, I'm a good mom, exposing my son to intellectual radio programming). A story came on about the mayoral race candidates in New York City, but before I could change the channel, the damage was done.

"Did she just say what I think she said?" giggled my middle-school-aged son.

I sighed and put on my best mature mom voice. "Yes, she did. That's his last name--Weiner."

Mark laughed out loud. This was the best thing he'd ever heard on NPR--a man named Weiner.

I was about to flip the station when I realized this was, in fact, a teachable moment. Mark goes to high school next year, and his friends all text and send photos to each other. This was a good time to discuss the rules of texting, and to reiterate what is and isn't appropriate to send in a text.

I ended my impromptu lecture with words I never dreamed I'd have to say out loud: "No matter what you think, no matter what your friends say, no girl wants to receive pictures of your private parts. EVER. Understood?"

I glanced over at Mark and realized I'd totally wasted my breath. He was still giggling.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" I asked.

"I would hate it sooooo much if my last name was Weiner," said my child, acting every bit his age.

I dropped the subject. I also decided we'd heard enough NPR, and changed the channel.

A few minutes later, a commercial came on the air for a new waterproof smartphone. You can use it in the pool, in the bathroom, even in the shower, the announcer said.

Now it was my turn to giggle.

"Seriously?" I asked. "That's just creepy. 'Hey Mark, I'm texting you from the shower!' Really, who needs to text FROM THE SHOWER!!"

Mark laughed too, then smiled slyly and said, "Anthony Weiner would love that phone."

Now it was my turn to lose it. I laughed out loud at my completely inappropriate son. Apparently, he was listening to the story after all.

And that right there is the epitome of my life as a mom. An embarrassing story pops up, I turn lemons into lemonade by teaching about consequences, and Mark turns it into a joke. Which I find funny, thereby rendering all my serious words and lessons completely useless.

Like my friend Jill always says..."Motherhood is not for sissies."