[Part I…Part II…the story continues]
One of the reasons my husband says he married me – besides the fact that my father probably begged him to, no doubt – is that I make him laugh, no…matter…what…and – after 18 years and raising four kids, together – there HAVE been plenty of whats between us.
"WHAT – the hell do you mean, you’re pregnant – AGAIN!?!?"
Trust me!
"Well, at least we’re happy and our kids won’t be fighting over our money!"
Of course, I’m kidding – sort of.
"Oh…my…doG…you’re WHAT!?!?"
When I told Garth (not his real name) that we were pregnant with Thing One, he actually threw his hands up, placed them on his head head, started pulling at his hair (when he had some to, you know, grab) threw himself down on the bed and just lied there, for a few minutes, petrified beyond words.
"Um…did I mention that I am actually going to be the one, you know, giving birth?"
See, one of reasons I married my husband – besides the fact that my father would probably pay him too, anyway – is that he is the ying to my yang.
[snicker]
All joking aside, Garth (not his real name) makes me stop…and think…even…when…I…don’t…want…to.
"Are we really ready, for THIS!"
Oh, stop it.
"We’ll have to start thinking about buying a house, saving for college and…oh, my doG…what if we decide to have more kids!?!?"
No, really…STOP!
"Let’s just have this one, first, before we start wigging-out…m’kay!"
We did, times 4, and then, before I knew it, the time had come.
"Aaaaand…what time does the middle school get out?"
When it comes to someone – especially, a boy in high school – showing that much attention, in my 13-year-old daughter, I am scared stupid!
"Well, just in time for ME to pick her up and I am her mother, by the way."
Something in my head was like…oh, SNAP…and I wanted to yank the living hell out of his ying-yang!
[nods head and swipes debit card]
"Well, then do you believe in Freshman Fridays?"
[nods head and enters pin]
"Oh, absolutely NOT and anyone who does…well, they should be tarred and feathered…that’s WHAT!"
[eyes go wide]
"Um…thank you."
I turned toward my 13-year-old daughter – who was still in shock, and deeply engrossed in a one-sided conversation, if I hadn’t intervened – grabbed her hand and smiled triumphantly.
"Have a nice day!"
Later.
"What was all THAT about?"
Ah, she speaks!
"What?"
Okay…I knew, what…it’s just that, after all these years of pretending like I did NOT care…I got nothing…and was merely trying to buy myself some more time…and think of…you know…something.
"WOW…I never had a guy, you know, give me that kind of attention."
Yes, I know…damnit.
"Thank goodness you were there, Mom!"
Okay…um…WHAT?
"I’m so used to people thinking of me as, you know, the quiet one, who sits in the back…and you don’t know how it feels to finally have someone notice me."
Actually, I do and it SUCKS!
What I did tell her is that no amount of makeup – no matter how heavy an eyeliner, or dark the lipstick – would ever disguise the fact that she was still too young to deal with that kind of attention. And her father and I will probably continue to make decisions – not to mention, more than a few mistakes – that will probably piss her off, no doubt. But, we would love her, anyway. Just as anyone, should. With, or without the use of cosmetics.
"What’s Freshman Fridays?"
Wait, I wasn’t finished…because, I still want to tell her about the fishnet stockings and mesh fingerless gloves…that her best friend was wearing the other day…that I was really worried about…ah, but never mind…I think…I will think on it, some more.
"Um…I have NO idea."
Thing One just shook her head and smiled.
"I’m just used to being, you know, your mother and we can always google it later."
It’s okay, she knows.
"Don’t worry – I get it, Mom – it’s just that I’m not used to the attention and I guess maybe I’m not so ready to date guys, either."
Neither am I, kid – especially, that you ran straight for the phone to tell your bff.
"Guess what just happened…TO ME?!?"
And your father’s not too happy, either!
"That’s it, no dating for you until you’re 21!"
Nope…and it is NOT going to get any easier, either…just go with it, dear.
But, at least we’re talking – my sincerest thanks to the teenage delinquent, behind the counter – forgive me, but I still wonder if there will be a time when we WILL be ready…ever.
Just so you know:
Freshman Friday – In many high schools, Fridays are celebrated by putting freshman in garbage cans, or stuffing them into lockers. It’s amazing how creative the upperclassman can get, really.
via: Urban Dictionary
Then….I still stand by what I said, you bunch of delinquents!