“What can I get you to drink?” the waitress asks us, standing over our table of four, pen in hand, poised over her pad.
“Pinot grigio for me, Bud Light for him, and two mil--” abrubtly she cuts me off.
“Do you know who I am?” she suddenly directs at my son. Then, squatting down beside the table, propping her face in her hands, atop her bent elbows. “Remember me?”
Oh God, what is happening?
My son stars at her, blissfully dumbfounded. I look at him, at my husband, at the face in the hands. The whole exchange feels like five minutes. Did I miss something?
“I’m Tierney’s mom,” she announces.
A-ha moment! We’ve heard of Tierney! Tierney goes to school with Graham! Connecting the dots!
“And Tierney told me that you were her boyfriend.”
Screech! Halt! Stop the presses! Rewind! Como se whaaaa? My son is four years old. But the face in the hands seems to be very pleased with this information.
Dear God, teenage years, please be kind to this mama.
P.S. Tierney’s mom is super nice and even got my boys to eat their peas. In fact, she might be an ideal mother-in-law…
1 comment:
This is hysterical! You will be even more horrified when along about third grade or so some sweet little girl announces she is "going steady" with your son. Such a proclamation sent me into orbit until I figured out that "going steady" (at that time, anyway) meant that they were talking to each other.
An important point to remember, though. In my experience, as the mother of one girl and one boy and eavesdropper on the conversations of many of both as we drove people to soccer games and such: rarely does the boy offer relationship status updates. This information almost always comes from the girls. An excellent reason to drive carpool.
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