Mother of the Year-Valley Style

I often joke that I'm not sure how I'll get thru Big O's teenage years.

I'm pretty sure it won't be like this:

She's 35, she has a 16 year old son.
For his birthday, she throws him a party.
(So far, I am right there with her.)
In honor of the occassion, she liquors them all up.
(There went the fork in the road!)
Then she throws them all out to drive home.
(WTF?)
Twelve of them get into a serious accident on the way home, injuring 11 out of 12.
(How in the holy hell did they get twelve in a car? Was one of them driving the group-home van?)

WAIT! The hits just keep on coming!

One of the kids let slip that he and the Mrs. did the bone dance while celebrating the birth of her son, his friend. His sixteen year old friend.
(If he had the most exquisite body on earth, it'd still be a teenage boy's body, with all of the skill and control of a ferret on crack--eeeww.)
She is married to a cop in a neighboring town.
(Should I say was?)

Okay, the sex thing is unconfirmed, and I could be wrong that everyone was in one car--maybe it was TWO cars full of drunk teenagers that she sent home once she'd had her fill (As it were).
Ah, life in the great Central Valley of California. From the folks who brought you the kiddie-tackling football coach.