Wednesday, December 15, 2010

brb, digging a moat around the house

I used to think I was lucky to have a son instead of a daughter - I mean, sure, I can't play with dolls with him or braid his hair, but I also don't have to worry about him being obsessed with Justin Beiber or Twilight.

I think I was most glad not to have to worry about him being a teenage girl - a billion years ago, I was a teenage girl and I was a terror - the mood swings, the sneaking out at night, the self-destructive stuff... but I don't have to worry about that with The Kid, all teenage boys do is eat a ton of food and laugh at fart jokes - I can deal with that.

What I neglected to factor in to the equation, though, is that my child is devastatingly cute and an athlete and that stuff can be catnip to teenage girls.

Yesterday, while The Kid was at basketball practice, I was in the kitchen finishing up my newest culinary experiment, rocky road fudge, when the junior high school down the street let out and my street filled up with teenagers.

They're usually pretty loud, but I'm used to the noise by now - then I hear a piercing scream right outside and I look up to see a trio of girls walking by.

"[The Kid]!" one of them shrieks in a sing-songy voice.

"We love you, [The Kid]!" another one of them screams.

"[The Kid], come out and play!" the third one yells.

One of them looks into the kitchen window, sees me and hits the other two, then they run down the street squealing and giggling.

It was seriously everything I could do to yell something like "stay away from him, you teenage skanks!"

The Kid is still in 6th grade, he's still two years from being an actual teenager, I am NOT prepared for this crap.

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting, I take pictures