Oh, boy(s)...

Today's anecdotes come under the heading "the perils of growing up". (And of course I'm referring entirely to the trauma felt by Mom...whose sweet little boys are becoming adolescent young men much, much faster than she's ready or willing to accept...) It all started at the dinner table one night (of course) when Riley made some barbed remark directed at Derek--something about how "I guess you did have a girlfriend...once..." (I know, right? O-U-C-H! And don't ask me how the mealtime discussion even got onto the topic of girls in the first place...or how in the world it immediately devolved into trash talk...sometimes the male species is just a mystery to me...)

Anyway, Derek chuckled good-naturedly and shot back, "Yeah? When are you gonna ask out a girl?" Without so much as a blink or a pause, Riley emphatically stated, "Oh, I have a list, from 1-10. I'm just deciding which one to choose...but any one of them would be happy to go out with me!" I'm sorry...WHAT THE HECK? I was frozen in shock, behind Riley with my mouth hanging open. Husband almost spit out the bite of food he was unfortunately attempting to swallow at the time. And Derek--well, he just about snarfed his milk, he was laughing so hard. Holy guacamole, where did my 10-year old pick up such enormous amounts of...playground swagger? At this rate, he's gonna be one scary individual by the time he even hits puberty! (Hear that, ladies, you've been warned by a very reliable source...) To seal his image as a...I don't know...Junior Casanova? check out the photo Husband took of my precious little darling at the Washington Auto Show last weekend...looking faaaaarrrr too comfortable...in an adorable Mini Cooper! Oh. Dear...

Now let's move on to Derek. Lately, the poor guy has taken quite a bit of flak about the fact that...the hair on his upper lip has become visible. Let me hasten to add: it's not even in the neighborhood of what one might call a "moustache". It's just a few strands, that happen to be darker than his pale skin. He also has some wispy, very blond growth on his chin--which you can't even see unless you're directly next to him, and the light is shining just right on his jawbone...you get the picture. However, he has mentioned to us that a number of his friends are already shaving. At. Age. 13. Are you kidding me? Who ever heard of boys needing razors...in Middle School? That's just a little bit horrifying, if you ask me. I mean, Husband has been taming Derek's sideburns with an electric trimmer for a while now....but actual shaving? Shudder! Suffice it to say, we've (I've) been practicing a very effective self-defense technique I call "avoiding the whole subject". Then one night we were talking about the possibility of getting Derek his own electric shaver for his upcoming birthday, and he casually tossed out, "That's good, because B (a kid at his bus stop) called me Chewbacca the other day!" Sigh. I would have to say that talking smack about facial hair is even worse than the teasing-about-chicks conversation.

So, the latest "evolution" of the younger generation in our household has me...perturbed? Confused? Nostalgic for the smooth-faced, "girls are icky" days? Yeah, put me down for all three...and wish me luck as I continue my dangerous, unpredictable journey through...Teenage Boy Land...