Bones came out this morning, dressed for school: dress pants, dress shoes, black long sleeved dress shirt, and belt. He brushed his hair and said to me, "Do I look smexy?"
To which I replied, "What in the heck is smexy?"
Bones: Smart and Sexy.
Me: First, you are my SON. You will NEVER be smexy to me. EVER. Second, you are THIRTEEN. You are a boy. Thirteen year olds are not smexy.
Bones: Ma. Really.
And so that is how our day started with a 13 year old, Mr. Smexy, going off to school to conquer Valentine's Day.
He didn't see the girl who isn't his girlfriend today, other than to slip her the heart confetti filled envelope.
He received two candy lollipops, both from secret admirers, neither of whom spelled his name correctly.
First or Last.
Now what is funnier, to me, is the fact he goes to an art school, with a very diverse student body, when I said, "So, do you have any suspicions as to who the little girls are?", he replied, "Well, the first one... it... 'cuz I don't know, it could be a boy..."
I nearly fell out laughing.
It turns out, he thinks the first one was a joke, from the 6th grade boy that calls him 'Mr. Clown'.
I have often wondered if it was bad that my boys didn't have a sister. How do you learn how much hurt can go into being the other sex if you don't witness it? Watching my brother, I was very conscious of making sure a guy didn't spend too much on me, I tried to think of cheap ways to date, and always tried to reciprocate. If he didn't let me pay for a meal, I'd cook.
So I have wondered. What has happened instead is my boys have a lot of friends that are girls. I mean real friends, that they aren't dating, but literally hang with and bounce things off of.
For Ringo, there are four girls in particular. They've all been in my house at one time or another. One of them is of the Murdering Campbells. Those of you who have been reading me, know of all the stories of this little girl he's known since he was five.
All four girls currently do not have boyfriends and therefore did not have dates. As a senior in high school, when everything feels still so personal, they were sad and thought the whole situation stunk.
So on the way home from the gym tonight, he stopped by Publix and picked up each girl some flowers and a small bar of chocolate and drove to each of their homes to drop them off.
I didn't know what to say. I sure has hell never prompted this action... this empathetic action towards a girl.
I said, "What did they say?"
He said, "They thanked me and said I made their Valentine's Day happy..."
I spent time then explaining to him, something I suspect he already knew: It truly is the thought. It doesn't have to be diamonds and balloon rides and big fancy dinners. It can be the simplicity of 'you took the time out of your day to think of me...".
I also told him that these young women would remember it for the rest of their lives.
Like I remember the time I was 20 and moved back to town and an old friend of mine from high school, a boy, painted a 10 foot sign on wood, and had it placed in my parents' front yard... welcoming me home.
And... I think that Ringo's actions probably raised him up in the eyes of the parents, not that he needed it. But whenever someone does something that is kind for my boys, something that lifts their spirits, I always remember that action and what it meant.... and who did it.
Tonight, I genuinely think that Ringo felt deeply, 'it was better to give than to receive'. He looked happy.Posted by Boudicca at February 14, 2013 10:28 PM