call me my love you can call me any day or night
That doesn't mean I didn't love Fridays. I love Fridays! Who doesn't love Fridays? As I write this, it's Sunday, and we all know Sunday means two things - a new episode of Mad Men and the desire for it to be Friday. Well, I have the power to give you a little Friday as your new week starts! Please visit I Pick Pretty, where last Friday, Mel graciously profiled me in her Featured Blogger Friday post. There I give you an amuse-bouche of what I'm like. Did you just say I'm amazing? Yes, that's true. However, I don't get into that over there. Do you question my inspirations? Do you wonder what my favorite books are? Well, I'm not going to tell you here. You have to go there. See what I just did? I gave you some Friday! You're welcome!
When you're done - and that means leaving Mel a lovely comment - then please come back here and read the new post below. To those new here from I Pick Pretty, I hope you'll enjoy the comfortable surroundings, and will leave me a comment so I know you've been by.
My oldest son turned 12 a few weeks ago. It's a brave new world living with a pre-teen. Our once semi-quiet home has transformed into an incoming call center of young girls phoning to speak to my son. My sweet boy speaks politely to each girl, including the one with an extreme case of short-term memory because she neglects to remember the many times I've asked her not to call at 6:30 a.m., Monday through Friday, when I grumpily answer the phone. I'm very proud of my son's good manners. However, it's clear by his routine use of monosyllabic responses, he's oblivious to the true intent behind some of the calls these girls are making - they think he's cute, and they want him to think they're cute, too.
Here's the thing about 12 year old boys - they don't think much is cute yet. Especially girls. At least that's the case with my particular 12 year old boy, and to be perfectly honest, based on the giggly girls calling here, I'm glad to be living with the Y chromosome during this new phase of life.
The discourse that followed taught me a few things. First, students should spend less time trying to bone each other and more time boning up on their spelling. Second, the rampant abuse of exclamation points needs to cease. Finally, study hall is the modern day Sex and The City. "WE DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT THE DANG GUY!!!!!!!!!! STOP MAKING US SOUND EVIL BECUZ WE DON'T HAVE BACKGROUND INFO!!!!!!!!" exclaimed the cynical middle school Miranda Hobbes. "U need to let her have her space! She can date whoever she wants!" a young, love defies all Charlotte York soothed.
The battle waged on forever, or in this particular case of young love, just a few days. By Thursday, my young friend returned her relationship status to 'single,' and her updates became triumphant female empowerment mantras the likes of which would be the battle cries of the uninhibited Samantha Jones. "WOW!!!!! I'm SINGLE and I LUV IT!!!!!!!" she wrote ("I knew that something was wrong with him. What did I tell u? I was right AGAIN!!! I think you should start listening to me," the young Miranda jabbed back). This was followed by a long string of updates championing her love of being single and how she "...wasn't waistin' (sic)(sigh...) any more time on boys!!!!" Where once I hoped to hear Journey's Separate Ways in my head while reading her Facebook page, I was now hearing the omnipresent lyrics of Beyonce's Single Ladies. "Life is full of jerks and that is all I have left to say," she concluded.
That may be my acquaintance's opinion of young love now, but in a thoughtful - and correctly spelled - comment, I assured her the day would come soon enough (though, honestly, at 12?!?) when she'd not think of boys as jerks. I also told her there was plenty of time to be in love. Preferably, though, that time is not between 6:30 a.m., every Monday through Wednesday.