Friday, May 8, 2009

Crushes are a Mutha . . .

Stand back. This gets a little sentimental . . .

Last night I decided to go food shopping after dinner. It was a very unusual decision for me, as I never shop on a school night. I am usually way too tired and have a full schedule of laundry and boob tube with a 9:15 pass out coming before completion of either. As I was getting ready to go, a sweet voice called and asked "Mom, can I go with you?". I almost didn't recognize the voice as it hadn't addressed me that way in a very long time. It usually was addressing me in a voice just under a yell, dripping with "you don't get it, old person" sarcasm or downright anger. Could this angelic voice be my thirteen year old son? I sat there slack-jawed for a minute and tried to find my words. "Sure honey, get your shoes on." Despite my best effort, the words came out more like a question, clearly revealing my shock and surprise. We walked to the car side by side and drove off to Stop and Shop.

As we walked in the doors, Joey revealed to me that he needed to buy a birthday gift. The disucssion went like this:

JOEY: I need to buy a birthday gift for a friend.

MOM: OK, honey, when is the party?

JOEY: Oh, it's not like that. There's no party. I just want to get a little gift. I brought my own money, you don't even have to buy it for me.

MOM: Oh, OK, who is it for.

JOEY: It's for my friend Chris.

MOM: Which Chris?

JOEY: Uh, Chris Blahblahblah. Remember, she was in my first grade class?

MOM: <trying to stay cool and not giggle because he said "she"> Oh, OK, Chris. Sure (I lied).

I tried to steer him to the card aisle but he pointedly told me that he's "got this" and that cards would not be necessary (too much direct sentiment, I suppose). About two aisles into our shop, he asked me if he could go off and purchase something for his "friend". He assured me that he would only be a text message away. I agreed and off he went. Fifteen minutes later, while perusing the meat aisle, Joey returned to my side with a bag full of items. He pulled out a mint green beanie baby bear, an egg of Silly Putty and two cans of silly string. Then he rummaged around the bottom of the bag and pulled out a package of Orange Tic Tacs. "These are for you." "Really?" I asked, the lump in my throat beginning to form. I handed them back to him and like the first class bitch that I am sometimes said "You bought these for yourself, right?". He replied that they were indeed for me, hammering his point home by asking "They ARE your favorite flavor, aren't they?". He had me dead to rights.

I spent the second half of my shopping trip with a lump in my throat, fighting back the tears. Questions about "Chris" were racing through my head, along with a sense of disbelief that old Joey was back. I had been having a lot of trouble recently with Joey's teenage incarnation. He was a moody and angry and spent most of the time locked in his room. Only the outer shell looked like the boy that had been so sweet, loving and fun that I often wondered what wonderful planet he came from.

I couldn't help but wonder and worry about this "Chris" person.

- What if this was just a crush and the feelings were not reciprocal?

- What if she likes him but he loses his nerve and doesn't act on it?

- What if she is just not good enough for him? (aw F it. Nobody will be)

The thought of a teenage crush gone wrong was almost too much for me to bear. I remember how devastated I was when I was 12 and I had a mad crush on the 16 year old cashier at Brill's Supermarket. I rode past his house every day. I wrote him love letters that I never delivered. And when I tried to flirt with him (obviously and not the least bit smoothly), he pointed out our age difference and left me in pieces.

I know that here is nothing that we can do to stop our kids from experiencing the pain of life. But I am warning you "Chris", whoever you are, if you hurt my baby, I'm coming for you. I'm not afraid to cut a bitch and I have a shovel and a 50 lb bag of lime ear marked for just such an occasion. So mind your P's and Q's missy, because if you hurt old Joey, I'm gunnin for ya. If you hurt new Joey then bitch, you're on your own.

10 Your comments, banter and witty repartee:

peewee said...

HAHAHH! I am SO glad I'm not "chris"

And how cute is he?!?! Silly string!! Silly putty! And a beanie bear!! Seriously. I would have fallen OVER if a boy had ever got me that stuff.

Though, I don't think you did your job as a mom not showing him the chocolate aisle, and the importance of that in courtship. I'm just saying.

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

You're so right. Even if she is only sorta normal, she's looking throught that gift bag for the chocolate. He still has time though and I may suggest it, but he was pretty clear that my imput was not welcome.

KimberLeigh said...

Awwwww. He's a cutie. Hope she treats him nice.

Haley said...

Nice post! Always nice when they come back from planet teenager - even if for a moment.

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Haley - Thanks girl (and have I mentioned that your fur looks super-lusterous today!).

Kimber - Thanks. Me too.

Nanny Goats In Panties said...

Oh boy, I really loved this post. My own eyes got a little watery.

Happy Mother's Day, dearie!

- Margaret

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

NGP - Thanks a bunch. They sure do keep me crying (Or it could be the hormones. No way to know for sure)

Mare said...

This gave me such a lump! I'm all ferklemp! Bring your lime and shovel, I'll dig the hole!

DG at Diary of a Mad Bathroom said...

Mare, the boy is a constant source of emotion (good, bad or otherwise)for me.

somebody said...


Post a Comment

Sarcastic Remarks?
Write 'em here: