Saturday, February 7, 2015

The School Dance Chaperone

  

A few weeks ago, it was announced that there would be dance at the middle school. A Valentine's Dance. I asked my daughter how many gentleman callers asked her to the dance. "Only two, but one of the boys is my friend's ex boyfriend so I told him no." She knows about the girl code. By going to the dance together, it means that they are going to stand near each other and bob their heads and then sit next to each other and eat pizza. I'll call the boy she went to the dance with, Irish Jim.

I chaperoned the dance because I am a helicopter parent and want to make sure my daughter and he friends are appropriate. I will rat them out to their mamas. It's called good looking out. I stood at the door taking tickets and Irish Jim came up, took a wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out his ticket. So cute! What do these 10 year olds keep in their wallets? Maybe the itunes gift cards he got for Christmas, frequent Gander Mountain shopper card?

My daughter walked in with her little friends, they were chattering and excited and enjoying their youth. There was a sea of 10-13 year olds. It was like a tween convention.

My job was to stand by the door and make sure that no kids escaped and to monitor how many kids left to use the bathroom. I stood by the door and watched the kids do their middle school dancing. In the corner of my eye, I saw three kids ( 2 girls and a boy) trying to get up on the stage and I waved them down. They were 12. I knew one of the girls since she was a little girl. I remember her being a sweet little 6 year old, walking around with little black-rimmed glasses. She has turned into a beautiful young lady.

The kids stood in front of me. Sweet, preppy children in Holister jeans and Under Armor sweat shirts. Clean cut kids. "What are you guys doing? They don't let you on the stage." The girl pointed to the boy and said, "He wanted to request a song." I turned to him. "What song do you want to hear?" I know the DJ, he plays all the popular songs with the kids. I thought that surely it was a song he would play later on. The boy said nothing but the girl blurted out, "He wants him to play 'Grind on Me.'" They looked for my reaction.

I was speechless.
                                 
Then I was like:

         Aww Hell Naw

"I am sorry y'all, but they are not going to play a song called 'Grind on Me.' That is unacceptable" The little boy protested. He seemed personally offended. "Well, they just played 'I'm in love with the Coco.'" I rolled my eyes at him, "That is a song that is obviously about a man who occasionally enjoys a cup of hot chocolate. Now, go dance and get your mind out of the gutter."

They gave up on the 'Grind on Me' song and left disappointed. I had never heard of this song but I was sure to file it away to look it up later. The rest of the dance went off with out a hitch. Towards the end, my daughter was asking me if a kid could come home with us and I had already promised to take home two others. I walked out with five kids following me. I felt like the pied piper.

We made our way home and I asked my daughter if she danced with Irish Jim. "A little. We got our picture taken together." "Just the two of you?" She laughed, "Yeah, mom." Uggh. Someone kill me.

By the time I battled the traffic and made it home, I was exhausted. My mother in law had cooked dinner for me, and I could have kissed her feet. I sat down to eat and then put on my pajamas. I opened my computer, pulled up Youtube and typed in Grind on Me Lyrics. I could not believe what I was hearing. Those poor kids. Any innocence they may have once contained was completely annihilated when they heard that song.

My heart sank. My daughter takes pictures with boys with wallets and goes to school with kids that listen to Grind on Me....it's surely all down hill from here. This morning I felt a lot better when she came downstairs with her friend to eat breakfast. They grabbed a doughnut and then she said, "Wanna go watch My Little Pony?" Yes! I hope she watches My Little Pony for the next five years instead of listening to raunchy music.

It's not likely, but a mom can dream...



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