My 13 year old son is downstairs with his girlfriend. It's kind surreal, just doesn't seem possible. I think she is a ghost.
The wife and younger kids went to the ward x-mas bash. The wife instructed me to head downstairs every once in awhile and say, "gotta get something from from the fruitroom" (actually my wife calls it a pantry but in cache valley we say fruitroom). So should I go down? It is kind of quiet right now. But what would I get out of the fruitroom? Some flour? Maybe some chips?
Again (see my earlier post on this subject) one half of me wants to maintain some boundaries while the other is kind of rooting for him. I mean who wouldn't want his son to experience the thrill of holding hands or the mountain-like accomplishment of a first kiss?
Whatever my own ambiguity, must be able to tell the wife I went down when she gets back. Guess I will go check out the canned goods.
7 comments:
This is hilarious to me, because it's your kid and not mine. And yes, of course you're rooting for him. That's nice. I also love the falseness of the "checking the fruitroom" which is SO obvious they will just know.
Also reminds me of making out with a high school boy in my basement while we watched MTV (Bruce Springsteen in the background). I think my mom thought I was down there watching TV with my friend Michelle. Well, what she doesn't know won't kill her.
Waitttttt....don't say that word: make-out! I was only rooting for a peck, a small kiss.
he he. I thought perhaps Dr. Write's word choice would send you searching deeply for fruit--peaches, pears. The purposes of preserves is multiplex.
make out make out make out!
This has reminded me of some fruitroom checking my parents should have done when I was in my youth . . . late teens, though. LATE teens. Nothing to worry about.
In conclusion, kids these days.
Dude! If I had a thirteen year old son I would be down every 60 seconds.
Time to have that talk, I fear, if you haven't already.
God I would be a shit parent.
Oh and I feel compelled to remind you that it is a biological imperative for the older generation to, ahem, cock block the younger generation.
Next door wonders: Hmmm, wonder how quickly you'd be down there if that was your 13 year old daughter Hannah and some boy . . . .
My 15 year old baby girl needs to stay out of your basement, this point forward now referred to as "the den of ill repute next door".
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