What was I thinking?
For all you who are t.i.r.e.d. of me going on and on about my baby growing up ... well, sorry. It's coming up again.
Long ago, in a universe far, far away, there was an 11-year-old girl starting middle school. She was old beyond her years.
No, that's not right. She BELIEVED she was older than she really was and wanted to grow up NOW. In fact, she thought that she should be entitled to rights and privileges beyond her years and was mighty might peeved that I seemed to not want her to grow up. (Me? Nah.)
Among the things she was haranguing me mercilessly about was dating.
"If someone were to ask me out on a date, could I go? And if not, WHEN will I be allowed to?"
Eeek, I thought. Here is an issue that, in all my years of parenting, had never really come up.
My boys weren't so much into dating (uh, Drama King? Hello??), and I had long ago proven myself to be a sexist pig anyway.
< digression >
Z-man was quite the ladies man in preschool and kindergarten. Girls liked him, and he liked 'em right back. In fact, he chased a little girl around the school on the night of his preschool graduation, seeking kisses. Soooooooooo cute.
So the day he came home from kindergarten and told me that he had kissed Katie, I was equally charmed. What a cutie that boy was!!
Fast forward five years to the Roo-girl's kindergarten class and the day that Corey kissed her in the sandbox.
The horror. The OUTRAGE. The conversations with the teacher ...
See? Sexist pig.
< /digression >
OK, where were we? Oh yeah. Dating. Sixth-graders. Uh, NO.
"But then WHEN??????" she demanded.
In a moment of panic, I threw out the same number that my girlfriend was using for her son.
I felt that was safe. She would be through with middle school and starting high school by that time. It satisfied her, and it was far far far away at the same time.
Now, I would have just continued in my blissfull ignorance but for the THING that happened Friday night while I was at karate belt-testing for J-bear.
I was sitting there minding my own bee's wax when I received a text message from Roo, who was at home, moping over her failed plans with her girlfriend.
"(Boy's name here) just invited me to go to the movies at the (mall she is never allowed to go to on Friday nights)."
Right then and there, at the karate studio, I gagged on my Chex Mix.
"That's a date," I texted back frantically.
Verbatim answer (spelling, punctuation and capitalization intact): "Dont worry mom i told him that i culdn't go cuz i dont hav a ride alrite?"
Whew. Bullet dodged.
It's June now. Next month is July. Do you know what comes in July?
The Roo-girl's 14th birthday.