Bonfires and Bluejeans

Randoms from my spot next to the fire

Dances, driving, and wives oh my!

on September 13, 2013

Today, I’m a wreck.  Not on the outside…although being Friday morning after a particularly long seeming week, I’m sure I’m looking the part, as well.  But y’all, it’s a big day at the yellow house.  Tonight, my sweet, innocent baby boy is going to his first school dance.  And mama ain’t too happy about it.  Technically, I’m happy he’s growing up into a fine, mature, well adjusted young man and blah blah blah.  Still.  He’s my baby.

There is something to be said for middle school dances that don’t play slow songs (at least that’s what I’ve been hearing.  Possibly a smoke screen put in place by a wise 6th grade boy?  Dunno.), enforce a strict dress code and carry on the tradition of the 50/50 room split.  Boys on one side, girls on the other.  That does little to ease my mind, however.  He’s still my baby.  He’s still too dang young to be going to school dances.  He should be wrapped up in my arms and bouncing around the living room like we did on so. many. nights. of his infancy.  That’s the only kind of dancing he should be doing.   Till he’s at least 42, and then he can dance with his wife.  I won’t mind then.

Seriously though, I’m not I try not to be one of those smothering, level 5 mamas.  They are 12 shades of crazy.  After 4 months straight of dealing with them, I learned first hand of what not to be when I grow up.  I’m really trying to let him go and cut the umbilical cord.  Promise.  Just on my own time table.  Looking back, I think I’m doing a pretty bang up job, although that opinion may be dependent on who ya ask.   But for some reason, this whole school dance idea is hard for me to digest.  First, it’s dancing.  Then they’ll want to stay over at their friend’s houses more.  God forbid the driving part, dating (just threw up in my mouth a little bit), then off to college and marrying some crazy girl who won’t ever be good enough for my baby boy…see.  There you go.  Dancing is just the intro to all the other dangerous things of growing up.

‘Scuse me while I go break it to him that he can just stay home tonight and dance with his mama.  Nobody can love him like I can, anyways.

Yours,

Jennifer

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2 responses to “Dances, driving, and wives oh my!

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