So, middle school started. Now my son has a girlfriend.
It’s been two days, people. TWO DAYS. Here’s a few snippets of the conversation that started it all.
“I have a girlfriend,” he blurts out.
“Oh, yeah?! Tell me about her. What’s her name?” I ask.
“Jessica-who? What’s her last name?” I continue.
*sigh* “I don’t know… just Jessica,” he simply says.
I find it hard to stifle my laugher, but I champion through. “OK, so what does Jessica look like?”
“I mean, does she have blonde hair, brown hair, blue hair?” I continue.
“I don’t really know,” he says. “It’s not really blonde. So brownish?” he guesses.
“Alright. So what do you like about this Jessica? What’s she like?” I ask. I’m really pulling for info at this point. Who is this young fawn of a darling that has captured my son’s attention?
“She’s really nice, and she’s cute.”
Seriously, son? That’s all you’ve got for me?
“Ethan, that’s not enough. You’re supposed to want to date a girl because she makes you want to be a better person. Why are you dating Jessica if you don’t know what you like about her?” I ask. I know I’m reaching here… but I just want to see why he actually likes the girl.
“I don’t know, Mom. I didn’t even know her yesterday. My friend just bet that we couldn’t get girlfriends by Monday.”
And this, folks, is where I stopped having a child because I swerved off the road and we died. DIED. Because who the HECK has a son that BETS he’ll have a girlfriend in SIXTH-FREAKING-GRADE?! A child who makes his mother swerve off the road, that’s who.
After I composed myself and told him that was the most disgusting way to date someone I’d ever heard of, he recovered and told me a bit more about her.
The true kicker of the conversation wasn’t when he asked if we could move to the same town as this Jessica, or when he told me that he doesn’t want to invite her to his birthday party because it might be “too early in their relationship.” It was another sly comment, one that makes me realize my poor child does, in fact, share my same anxieties and ridiculous mental capacity for unrealistic occurrences.
He asked: “What if GOD tells me I’m supposed to break up with Jessica?!?!”
And that’s when I texted a friend to meet me for dinner, because this a life I’m not prepared for and I need buffalo wings and adult beverages to help me figure it all out.
Happy weekend, ya’ll. May it be long and drama free. Amen.