Truth

He is smart. He is funny. He is kind and empathetic. Not to mention, tall, dark and handsome. A complete package. So why can't I trust him? Why do I question him and raise my voice? Why is it I feel so worried and controlling most of the time instead of pride?


Because he is fourteen. Because he is DS #1. Because he is mine. Because he is what I am leaving this world although I would like to keep him from it. Put him back in a playpen, surround him with soft toys and know where he is at all times. I would also love for him to want to be home sometimes.


There have been many discussion of "shenanigans". So many, in fact, his younger brother asked me with a lot of concern in his voice exactly what "shenanigans" are because he doesn't ever want to have them. I assured him they were not contagious and I was sure he would know how to avoid shenanigans when he was fourteen. Deep down I prayed I would get through them both being teens for a few years.


The issue of girls, dating, "hanging out" and shenanigans had filled the house with tension like humidity, making me sweat and want to lie down. He is persistent and smart, wants to be a lawyer. I think he is practicing on me. So he follows me as I walk through the house picking up shoes, underwear, kleenex and socks, why so many random socks?


"Ma. Why can't I just hang out with her? Her mom's home."


Ahhh. So much to say and not say. Her. "I don't know her mother."


"You can meet her when you drop me off."


"And what if I don't agree with the a...situation?"


"Then I will leave. But what would she do at the door anyway. C'mon. If we don't get to hang out then we're gonna break up soon."


Aha! A diabolical plan is hatched. Keep them separated and she will move on. Yes!


As if seeing the light bulbs igniting in a blinding circle around my head, he says, "If you don't ever let me do anything how will you know you can trust me?"


Damn truth.


"Ok it is not like you don't leave the house. You are always doing something. You are also only in eighth grade and I don't even know this girl."

Only vaguely what she looks like, what is posted about her on facebook and google and that her name ends suspiciously in a vowel.


"Did your mom trust you with dad?"


Yikes! The secret is out. I met his father when I was fifteen. My mother did not know when I was "hanging out" with him. There may or may not have been shenanigans.

"That was different. You aren't marrying her. You have a lot of things to do."

"I know. And I know what you mean about screwing up (shenanigans). I'm not gonna screw up anything. I am going to college. I won't mess that up."


"Her mom is home?"


"Stepmom."


"Let's go but I am not promising anything."


Three weeks later it was over. Turns out hanging out does not lead to life-long, or month long commitments.


Truth.