The Line…
… between boy and brat is very thin.
Sure, you can have that heart to heart talk, explain things with proper terms and watch him concentrate on your words, nodding as he absorbs each new point, processing the information. You can ask for assurance that your words won’t become weapons on the playground, that all you say will not be shared. You count on those momentary glimpses of maturity and understanding to step forward and be the grown up boy you hope he’ll become. That composed boy who thanks you for explaining all those strange terms and things is the boy you are so proud to know, proud of how he handled all the new information. How he…
screamed out “sexual intercourse!!!” as he slid down the school yard hill last week.
The line got thinner as I heard the principal explain the ‘zero tolerance’ policy that the boy violated. She seemed to feel the need to explain that the school cannot abide any inappropriate talk of sexuality or homophobic remarks. She doesn’t know me very well. I too cannot abide. I vowed the boy/brat was going to regret saying anything. A storm cloud hung over the car as I drove home from work, planning what I would say. I would be calm, even, I would not allow emotion to take over.
“YOU ARE IN SOOO MUCH TROUBLE!” I said loudly (OK, I yelled a little).
“HOW COULD YOU? I DEMANDED.
His answer was incomprehensible, he was obviously upset.
I growled at the husband who started to ask a question.
“GRRRRR!” This was my moment. Calm, even and unemotional didn’t have a chance -I was raving. I circled the prey glancing back at the husband to make sure he stood back.
At some point it occurred to me that the boy was never going to understand because the husband was no better at keeping information to himself than a ten year old. The big boys can gossip way more than any women I know. So who’s to blame? I handed the boy the best information he would ever learn and what did he do? He didn’t just tell his friends, he screamed his knowledge out for everyone to hear at recess. This shouldn’t have been a surprise.
I grounded him for the entire weekend, which lasted one day.
I grounded myself for being an idiot telling a ten year old the facts of life when he asked.
