Flirt
My oldest son has never been one to care about girls. Eww. Seriously ick.
My husband and I like to ask him (insert sing-song teasing voice here) "who's your girlfriend? anyone in your class you think is cute? do you Loooove anyone?"
I'm sure our approach defeats the purpose of getting him to confide in us, but I never said we were perfect parents.
Little girls like him, though. In kindergarten, I was informed by another mother and his teacher that he had several girlfriends. Say what?? As it turns out, these little girls had selected him to be their boyfriend; he had no idea. But no worries, they were broken up now anyway.
Last year, there was a little girl on his soccer team who could not stop touching him. Seriously. She jumped on him, and snatched his soccer ball, and slapped his back, and punched his arm and did everything possible to have physical and social contact with him, save from pinning him down and smooching him. Because THAT would have been obvious, right?
She would yell hello to him in the parking lot; he would run right past her. She would explain, dreamily, to her friend "that's W, he's in my class."
So I asked him about it one day. I was a little embarrassed for her that she tried to say hello to him all the time and he ignored her, so I was chastising him a little for not being a good friend. Which is mom-speak for you're being rude.
"She's not my friend, Mom."
"Sure she is, she's in your class."
"She hates me." Um, no, I don't think so.
"No she doesn't, don't be ridiculous."
"Uh-huh, she tells me every day."
"Come on. What does she say?"
"I hate you W."
Ah, young love. He's so clueless. And literal. God bless him.
A few weeks ago, a little girl from his class called him. I listened in on the conversation, only to hear "What. I turned it in. I already told you. Why are you calling me. I told you I did. What are you talking about. Why are you still talking about this." All the while, racing his Mario Cart to the next level.
I tried to get his attention, which only confused him more. So, I picked up the other line to see if I could get a read on what was going on, so I could prompt him. "Weeeellll, I wanted to make sure you turned in the book. Siiiillllyyyyy booooy. (giggle, giggle, gasp) I wouldn't want you to get in trouble. (more giggles and flirty laughter)."
Holy moly. She was crush calling. I did that with my friends. BUT NOT WHEN I WAS 9!
"Tell her it's dinner time."
"My mom says to tell you it's dinner time, but it's only 5:00, so I don't know."
"JUST TELL HER YOU HAVE TO GO."
"I have to go."
"Now say goodbye, see you tomorrow and hang up."
(To me, without covering the mouthpiece, or even moving his mouth away from it, for that matter) "she won't stop talking."
"GET. OFF. THE. PHONE!" I'm thinking of all the psychological damage he's caused this poor little girl.
Finally, the never ending call was over.
"Who was that?"
"I don't know."
"How could you not know, didn't she say her name?"
"Yes, but I forget."
"Well, is she in your class?"
"I think so."
Somewhere out there, a little girl will never recover from the memory of the crush call she made to a little boy who was completely unaware of her existence. Poor little thing.
Open letter to her mother, and the mother of soccer girl: I am sorry. He doesn't know. Never was a child more clueless. One day, my guess is, his feelings will change.
There IS hope. For all of us.
My husband and I like to ask him (insert sing-song teasing voice here) "who's your girlfriend? anyone in your class you think is cute? do you Loooove anyone?"
I'm sure our approach defeats the purpose of getting him to confide in us, but I never said we were perfect parents.
Little girls like him, though. In kindergarten, I was informed by another mother and his teacher that he had several girlfriends. Say what?? As it turns out, these little girls had selected him to be their boyfriend; he had no idea. But no worries, they were broken up now anyway.
Last year, there was a little girl on his soccer team who could not stop touching him. Seriously. She jumped on him, and snatched his soccer ball, and slapped his back, and punched his arm and did everything possible to have physical and social contact with him, save from pinning him down and smooching him. Because THAT would have been obvious, right?
She would yell hello to him in the parking lot; he would run right past her. She would explain, dreamily, to her friend "that's W, he's in my class."
So I asked him about it one day. I was a little embarrassed for her that she tried to say hello to him all the time and he ignored her, so I was chastising him a little for not being a good friend. Which is mom-speak for you're being rude.
"She's not my friend, Mom."
"Sure she is, she's in your class."
"She hates me." Um, no, I don't think so.
"No she doesn't, don't be ridiculous."
"Uh-huh, she tells me every day."
"Come on. What does she say?"
"I hate you W."
Ah, young love. He's so clueless. And literal. God bless him.
A few weeks ago, a little girl from his class called him. I listened in on the conversation, only to hear "What. I turned it in. I already told you. Why are you calling me. I told you I did. What are you talking about. Why are you still talking about this." All the while, racing his Mario Cart to the next level.
I tried to get his attention, which only confused him more. So, I picked up the other line to see if I could get a read on what was going on, so I could prompt him. "Weeeellll, I wanted to make sure you turned in the book. Siiiillllyyyyy booooy. (giggle, giggle, gasp) I wouldn't want you to get in trouble. (more giggles and flirty laughter)."
Holy moly. She was crush calling. I did that with my friends. BUT NOT WHEN I WAS 9!
"Tell her it's dinner time."
"My mom says to tell you it's dinner time, but it's only 5:00, so I don't know."
"JUST TELL HER YOU HAVE TO GO."
"I have to go."
"Now say goodbye, see you tomorrow and hang up."
(To me, without covering the mouthpiece, or even moving his mouth away from it, for that matter) "she won't stop talking."
"GET. OFF. THE. PHONE!" I'm thinking of all the psychological damage he's caused this poor little girl.
Finally, the never ending call was over.
"Who was that?"
"I don't know."
"How could you not know, didn't she say her name?"
"Yes, but I forget."
"Well, is she in your class?"
"I think so."
Somewhere out there, a little girl will never recover from the memory of the crush call she made to a little boy who was completely unaware of her existence. Poor little thing.
Open letter to her mother, and the mother of soccer girl: I am sorry. He doesn't know. Never was a child more clueless. One day, my guess is, his feelings will change.
There IS hope. For all of us.
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