The Boy

                                 

I came home from work the other day and my daughter asked to go to a boy's house. "We're doing a school project and he's filming a PSA and his mom is going to help. Can I go?"
It was E. I'll call him E-man. She wanted to go to E-man's house. "I have to call his mom."
I called her to make sure everything was legit. I know about being sneaky. I was in 6th grade once. "Hey! This is C's mom. So, E-man is filming something for a project and my daughter is supposed to help?"
"Yeah. I work in media so I'm helping. She can come over around 5:30."
"Ok. I'll see you then!"

I loaded her in the car and I drove her over to the boy's house in the neighborhood next to ours. Uggh. I pulled into the driveway and his mom was on the porch setting up the camera. I introduced myself and we chatted for a while. She invited me in her home so I could ensure that they weren't serial killers. Seemed legit. "I'll be back in an hour and a half."

When I picked her up they were eating pizza.They showed me the script and I tousled the hair of E-man's two year old brother.

The boy has been showing up at my house every evening now. E-man has been showing up and asking to see my daughter. It's a little disconcerting. He's a nice looking kid and I think he really likes my daughter. This afternoon I went up the street to pick my glasses that had just come in. I was on my way home when I got a text from my neighbor. "E-man is in your front yard." Good looking out.

I pulled up and they were standing in my driveway. "Hey E-man. You want to come in?" He shrugged, "Sure." The kids followed me inside. "C's dad is bringing home pizza. Do you want to stay for dinner?"
He shook his head, "No, ma'am."
My daughter spoke up. "He's afraid of dad."
"Are you afraid of my husband?" I asked.
"No." he replied. "Well, kind of."
"He's really not that scary." I did not convince him.

They went back outside while I straightened the house. My husband pulled up and E-man immediately got on his bike and waved good bye. He is petrified of my husband. He got out of the car. "What's wrong with that kid."
"He's afraid of you."
"Good."
"Be nice. I told him he could stay for pizza."
"You are encouraging this?"
"Encouraging what?"
"Boys."
                       
I don't encourage boys but E-man is not a bad kid. His text messages to my daughter are appropriate. He's a cute kid. He gets good grades. They are in middle school. Boys and girls are going to want to hang out with each other. It's not an abnormal thing. If I were to forbid that she have no friends who are boys it will only make her want to have more boyfriends. I know. I was there once. That's how I became a child bride. haha.

My husband is just exasperated, "I just remember being a 12 year old boy." Yeah and a 13,14,15,16, 18, 26, 30 year old boy. It's all the same. If he has a problem now just imagine in 3 years when she is in high school with 18 year old men.

                  
That's going to be a f**king nightmare. We'll get through it though.

Between work, keeping the house and E-man, I'm feeling a little stressed. I had a terrible headache this evening. I felt tense. I popped a few Excedrin and ran a hot bath. I lit some candles and played the classical piano station on Pandora. I slid my tired body into the tub and rested my head again the edge. The hot water felt so good. I laid there and meditated. I closed my eyes and pretended I had not a care in the world. I love baths. They are so relaxing. Until I get out.

Whenever I get out of the bathtub, I think of my 7th grade study hall teacher. He was a morbidly obese man and he always fell asleep in class. He had narcolepsy or something. He was terribly mean. One day we were sitting in study hall and he asked, "How many of you in here like to take baths? Raise your hand." I wasn't sure why he was asking this but he always asked weird questions before he went into a tirade about something.

I raised my hand, a few other kids did too. "Did you see the people that raised their hands? They like sitting in a pool of their own filth," he said. All the kids laughed and I slunk into my chair. I was a self conscious 12 year old. OMG. Everyone thinks I like sitting in a pool of my own filth. I thought. I hated myself. I felt stupid and dirty. Why did he do that? Just to be mean.

I think about that event every time I take a bath. He kind of ruined baths for me. What a jack hole. I own taking baths now. Yes. I enjoy laying in a pool of my own filth. It's filth that was on my body all day and it didn't bother me that much. I enjoy my own filth so much that I would drink bath-water martinis.

I'm rambling now. Off to pay attention to my poor, neglected husband.