Monday, January 25, 2010
The Sharks Are Beginning to Circle...
Note: This story told with the full permission of Jerame Davis.
Jerame came home from school this week and pulled an object out of his backpack. “Check this out, mom” he said, plunking a Hershey’s Kiss on the table.
This was not an average able-to-fit-ten-in-your-hand sized kiss. It was one of those big honking ones you see weighing down the store shelves in the weeks before Valentine’s Day. The ones you look at and think, “Who buys those?”
Answer: Fifth grade girls buy them. And they give them to my son.
“Yeah, so That Girl just handed it to me and said, ‘Jerame, I want you to have this’,” he said with a shrug.
(“That Girl” is obviously not her given name, but there’s no way I’m going to out a ten-year-old on the Internet.)
“You mean, That Girl…the stalker?”
“Yup,” he said, moving away, already done with this conversation and distracted by some tween TV show blaring in the family room.
That Girl has been on the Davis radar all school year, having pretty blatantly stated her interest in our second oldest son sometime last September. Jerame started calling her a stalker when, just before Christmas, he noticed her watching him from behind a row of lockers. At this point I felt the need to stick up for a fellow female.
“Jer, that’s not stalking. It’s being a fifth grade girl who likes a boy and has no idea what to do about it.”
“Whatever,” he replied. “It’s creepy. She’s weird.”
This conversation slammed me back to fifth grade so fast I felt my neck snap. No matter how old you get you never forget that feeling of really liking a boy and realizing it’s completely one-sided. So I started a little campaign for That Girl. “She’s cute,” I said. “And her mom is really nice.”
You can imagine the eye rolls I got after that last remark.
You have to understand that feeling compassion for That Girl goes against everything in me. I’ve known these days of girls showing interest in my boys were on their way and I have been dreading them. I don’t want them to enter those years of complicated feelings too early. I don’t want their little hearts broken. I sure as heck don’t want to even think of them having physical relationships with girls (eeeeek!). And to bottom line it for you: I’m kind of used to being the Queen Bee around these parts and I really don’t like the thought of young girls invading my turf.
But it looks like I won’t have a choice. And really, I’m glad there are little girls who think my boys are as cute as I do. As much as I would like to keep them home with me forever, that is (as Jerame would say) … just creepy. And weird. In theory, being the center of my kids’ universe for the foreseeable future sounds pretty good, but who wants an adult man taking up space in our living room, plunked on the couch playing Xbox at the ripe old age of 40?
Not this girl. Plus, I already have Joe.
So I laid down the law and told Jerame that if he did anything to embarrass That Girl at school I would punish him by mailing her a pair of his underwear. An eye for an eye, humiliation for humiliation. His response was a bug-eyed expression and a sound that went something like, “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat????”
Yeah, like I’m really going to do that. I can only imagine the phone call I’d get from this girl’s mom (much less her dad!) when that special delivery arrived. Moves like that will definitely get you put on lists you don’t want to be on. And Jerame is pretty sure I’d never follow through.
But I bet you he won’t call my bluff.