Reason #285 Why She'll Need Therapy

When Jack and I signed up to chaperon the spring Jr. High dance, our 12 year-old was mortified. It could have been our incessant teasing that she would hardly know we were there - we would find a nice dark corner to make out all night long. She was certain we would be the end to any hope of a social life she dreamed of having. We egged her on saying that we would be the first parents ever kicked out of a middle school dance.

When the date of the big dance was finally announced she rejoiced as she realized her father would be out of town on business.

Me - "Now who will I make out with?!"

#1 - "I dunno. I guess you'll have to act like a normal person now."

Me - "Hmm, will your principal be there? I can make out with him."

#1 - "MOM! He's married!"

Me - "So. So am I."

#1 - "MOM!"

Well the dance came and went and I didn't even so much as make a move on her principal. She spent the night avoiding me and refusing to make eye contact. She stands a good six inches shorter than most of the middle school student body, so she could easily slink around the mass of dancing children virtually unnoticed by a mother. A mother MUCH less savy than I. I stood my ground and made it my mission to stalk that student body until I could make out the silhouette of my own offspring. Once I spotted her, she made eye contact, slouched down into the crowd and disappeared again. And so the evening went, spotting, hiding, spotting, hiding...

I remember when she used to think I was cool.

When her father returned from his business trip, I shared with him all the things I had been witness to during the dance - the parents who had been FORBIDDEN from going in to the gym (what parent lets a sixth grader FORBID them from doing anything?), the boys that were slow dancing together like a couple of goofs, the boy having a full-on body spaz in the middle of the floor while others gathered in a circle to cheer him on, and the songs I, myself, had danced to at my middle school dance being played here again in 2009.

We decided to treat the girls to a movie that evening Jack returned. He agreed to see whatever movie the girls wanted to see. And so we endured two hours we'll never get back as we sat through "17 Again". The two younger ones wanted to soak in as much ZACH EFRON as they could.

(you have to "sing" when you say it like Jack and I - the girls hate it!) So they sat as close to the screen as they could. #1 found that totally juvenile and was so disgusted with their behavior, she opted to sit near the top with her father and I.

The two little ones spilled their popcorn, thought we couldn't see them from where we were at, crawled back over to the spill spot, and ate their popcorn off the floor. #1 was MORTIFIED. Jack and I figured that which did not kill them would only make them sick for a little while :)

Then it happened.

The theater began to fill up with middle school students. A group of eighth grade boys sat down directly behind us and Jack (not knowing any of them) decided to strike up a conversation.

Jack - "Hey, guys, how's it going?"

(#1 slides down in her seat.)

boys - "Great." "Good." "Aight."

Jack - "Did you guys go to the dance last night?"

(#1 slinks down further along with a "DAD!")

boys - "Yeah." "Yeah." "Yeah."

Jack - "Did you have fun?"

boys - "Yeah." "Yeah." "Yeah."

Jack - "You weren't those guys dancing with each other, were you?"

boys - "No." "Nope." "Not me. "Which time?"

Jack - "Dude! It was you. Man, that's just not right!"

(#1 was nearly on the floor and praying for the Lord to come take her home!)

Jack - "Hey, you guys don't mind if we make out during the movie, do you?"

#1 - "DAD!! STOP!!! OH MY GOSH!!!"

boys - "Nope. Go for it."

I took this opportunity to remind her that she could go sit down front and center with her sisters who were just finishing "cleaning up" their popcorn mess.

I'm just glad that when she's forking over all that money for professional help she'll have something legitimate to talk about!