A rare public sighting of mom and son
I made a big mistake over the weekend. I actually dared to be
seen in public with my teenaged son.
You have no idea how big a problem this is, unless you have a
teenager.
A rare public sighting of mom and son
I made a big mistake over the weekend. I actually dared to be seen in public with my teenaged son.
You have no idea how big a problem this is, unless you have a teenager.
I don’t think I am an overly embarrassing parent, but I must be.
It all started when I finally talked my 15-year-old into going to the movies with me. This might not seem like such a project, but it was. I had been begging him to do something with me for weeks.
When he was younger, this was no trick at all. I’d say, “Hey, let’s go to the Boardwalk.” Or, “Let’s go bowling.” Or whatever. He was up for it, then.
Then he was my little buddy. Now … well, I guess not so much.
These days, all my suggestions now are met with “I don’t know.” Or, “Maybe – we’ll see.”
I was longing for a little bit of bonding time. This is my baby, after all. Only a few more years and he’ll be out of the nest, like his big brother. So I grab for little bits of his time when I can get them, memories to save for the future.
I know, I’m a sentimental fool.
So I cornered him over the weekend and asked him to go to the movies with me. “I’ll buy you popcorn,” I said. That finally won him over.
Little did I know that all my careful planning would backfire.
Everything went without a hitch at first. We arrived at the theater on time for the Sunday matinee. Bought our tickets. Went in the theater. Bought our popcorn and drinks.
He was actually talking to me. Communicating. What a concept.
Then disaster struck. Well, not really disaster. But a snag.
Girls.
Girls that my son knows from school.
Immediately, he pretended not to know me.
He took a couple of giant steps so it looked as though we were not walking together. He strolled by the girls. “Hey, Hunter,” they said.
Hunter played it cool. “Hey,” he said back.
He found a seat and sat down. By this time, the theater was dark, so I could safely sit beside him.
“Do you want to go sit with your friends?” I whispered.
“No, that’s okay,” he sighed. And that was pretty much the end of the conversation.
I could hear the girls giggling down there throughout most of the movie. I’m sure Hunter heard them too.
When it was over, we walked out of the theater – again, with Hunter leading the way – but there was no one to impress. The girls left before us.
But there was another chance encounter with them outside the theater. They had their backs turned to us, so Hunter snuck up behind them and said, very coolly, “Hey.”
They giggled.
I stayed a few yards back and tried to become invisible.
Hunter continued on toward the car. “Don’t you want to talk to them?” I said when I caught up.
“Nah, I’ll talk to them tomorrow at school,” he said, quite the man about town. Playing hard to get, I suppose.
He did deign to get into the same vehicle as I did, possibly because he knew it was his only way home.
On Sunday, we did share popcorn, and a movie, and some memories. So what if he didn’t want to be seen with me part of the time?
With teenagers, sometimes you have to settle for small bits of affection. Or at least tolerance.
