Parenthood. Nothing quite like it. You look at your baby, and in this case my baby boy, you look at him smiling at you as you are bouncing him up and down and say to him in the voice you use with a baby, “You are so cute! And remember; don’t bring any sluts in this house! Yes, that’s right! No sluts.” He continues to look at you with that toothless grin and laughs with you. Whew, I think to myself, I got this thing covered. He will surely remember this when he gets older. Yes, people who are reading this, not quite what you expected me to say, right?
Flash forward to when the baby boy is now in third grade. Even though my son was not in the game Survivor, he received “tree mail.” My husband was the lucky one to find this “cute” little tree mail. As he is looking at this he says to me, “You need to read this letter written to Shaun.” I say to my husband, “Oh, how cute! Shaun got a love letter.” How bad could this be, right? I mean he is only in third grade. Well, as I look at this letter I believe smoke started coming out of my nose and ears. Horns popped out of my head, fangs appeared in my mouth and I ROARED. This innocent love letter, from another third grader, was requesting the presence of my son in bed and wanted to bare his children, among other things. SLUT!! Obviously she had not been here for my conversation with Shaun when I was bouncing him up and down, smiling, and telling him “No sluts in the house!” I was livid. I was ready to bring my bat to this little girl’s house and tell her a thing or two or twenty. My husband ended up tying me in a chair to restrain me as he went to talk to the parents about what the little girl had written. I think the girl’s dad had about as much smoke coming out of his head as I did.
Which brings me to the current year, as baby boy is now much older. I love having the kids at the house. Really, they are now young adults. Apparently a good time was had by all the young adults. But to my HORROR there was another woman in baby boy’s room. As I fidgeted most of the day I was subliminally trying to get through the walls the following words, “Remember, don’t bring any sluts in the house!” I don’t think it worked.
My husband looked at me, also in horror, when I told him the dog was in Shaun’s room so I just opened the door and let her out. “What? You didn’t knock? That was rude” My response, “What? I didn’t request the presence of another woman in the house, and the dog had to go out!” It’s not like I burst through the door and hacked up a lung to let them know I was coming in either.
When the happy pool goers finally awoke, I did get to meet her…well kind of. I introduced myself, “Hi, I am Shaun’s mom.” Her response, “Hi, I am a slut.” Okay, okay, she didn’t say that. To tell you the truth, I didn’t hear what she said her name was. I felt like I was in a movie, like Father of the Bride, where he tells the kids to fasten their condoms when they get in the car. I had to ask Shaun what her name was when he came home, since I didn’t hear it correctly the first time. I am sure she felt mortified too having to meet Shaun’s parents in a driveway.
I know males out there high five each other about girls…unless of course it is their own daughter. Yes, that story changes real quick. But you know us mothers feel this way about our baby boys. Nobody could possibly be good enough. One day I know he will have a serious girlfriend…but UNTIL that time I will continue to slam open his door whenever I like. That’s how this mom rolls! J
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