And So It Begins

Joseph started school a week ago Monday.



By the time I picked him up last Friday, the verdict was in:

"Mom, fifth grade is awesome! I have the best teacher! We get to eat snacks when we want, and she jokes around a lot-- and the best part is I sit next to a really hot girl."

"A what?!" I ask, while trying to look at the road and my boy in the rearview, all at the same time.

"A hot girl," he says, with a grin so broad I thought his face might bust.

"She has dark brown hair and blue eyes, and I think she likes me because she's always talkin' to me, and I don't think a girl would talk to you unless she liked you."

"Yes, that's true," I tell him, not sure I know how I feel about all of this girl-liking.

I mean, the kid is only ten-- well, eleven in another month.

And sure, there was that girl who asked him to the dance at diabetes camp.

But still...

And then he went on.

"So Mom, I got invited to another girl's birthday party-- A's. It's tomorrow. . . can I go?"

I know this girl. She's a bit taller than Joseph, has flaming red hair, and lives just three blocks away with her dad.

"Sure, but I'll want to talk to her dad to give him the scoop on your diabetes."

"That's okay. But can you believe I got invited? Only two other boys got asked to go. And 'N' -- that's the girl who sits next to me-- she'll be there too," he says, beaming.

Fast forward to Saturday afternoon.

Joseph returns from two hours spent at a girl's birthday party and the first thing he tells me is:

"Mom, I'm going out with A."

"Excuse me?" I choke.

"The other girls at the party wanted me to ask her out, so I did."

"What does this mean, this 'going out'?"

"Well . . . actually . . . I'm not sure," he responds, looking a bit sheepish.

"Do you think A knows?" I ask, fighting hard to keep a straight face.

"Ah . . . maybe."

Then I suddenly remember something.

"Hey- what ever happened to N?"

"Well, it was A's birthday."

"I see."

So that was the end of week one.

After school on Monday, Joseph made yet another announcement:

"Mom, I dumped A."

"You did what?"

"She's never gonna talk to me again. The other girls, too."

"What happened?"

"Well, I told Soren that I really wanted to go out with N, and he told A, and now she's all mad at me."

"Hmmm. I don't like hearing you say that you've "dumped" someone. That's just not a cool thing to say -- or do -- you know, it just sounds mean."

"No, it's not like that Mom. I'm not a jerk. It's just that I asked A out because it was her birthday, and I didn't want to hurt her feelings . . . I don't want to talk about it anymore."

So that was that.

. . . or so I thought.

Yesterday, as we drove home from school, the story took another turn.

"So Mom, I'm goin' out with A again."

"What? Why?"

"Because N won't go out with me."

"Well, she is A's friend-- and it's not cool to go out with someone your friend likes. But honey, do you even like A?"

"Yeah, I've kind of had a crush on her for a while . . . oh Mom, when I told A I'd go out with her again, she was so happy she hugged me-- right in front of everyone. I hope she doesn't keep doing that."

Hmmm . . . I hope she doesn't, too.

"Bud, I just thought of something-- what about that girl from diabetes camp? Do you still like her, too?"

"Mom," he shrugs, "I guess I'm just like Bingo Little."

Heaven help us.