Puberty. Is there a lesser degree of preparedness than "not at all"? Because that's me. Raising my son hasn't always been easy. But I have a pretty easy kid. For those of you who don't know, he's 12. Twelve seems to be the magic number where testosterone pushes its way to the front of the line, desperate to disprove its dormant, wallflower status. Noticeable physical changes haven't started taking place yet, but we've enjoyed some behavioral changes in these last few months; some expected, some borderline shocking.
One example of the expected is my son's skilled execution of the heavy sigh and exaggerated eye roll. The only thing that will make this better is when the word, "whatever," hits the rotation. Good times ahead.
He's also developed a new-found disdain for school. I don't think he really dislikes school, I think he's just feeding off of his friend's hatred for it. But even if he did, he comes by it honestly. I proudly held the title for "most 'sick' days in the history of any school, anywhere" back in 1982.
Sidebar - I was also voted most likely to own a shop called "Barely There" by my high school choir teacher, Mrs. Peebles - but that's a different set of issues altogether.
My son told me that not only does he detest school, he doesn't see the benefit in going at all. Here was our conversation:
Ryan - Mom, school is so boring. It's pointless. When am I ever going to work with negative exponents?
God help me, but I didn't even understand the question.
Ryan - I hate school. I'm think I'm gonna quit.
Me - Okay, you'll have to get a job, then. Not sure what you'll be able to do without a high school diploma, let alone at your age.
Ryan - I could sell games at GameStop or be a greeter at Wal-Mart.
I know I should've said no. But I do like a man with a plan. Plus, I'm really looking forward to the extra income.
Another fun issue we're dealing with isn't so much shocking, as it is, Really? This is what we're doing now? He has recently started dry-humping - or, more accurately - air-humping. This humping is totally unnecessary and utterly gratuitous. It's humping for the sake of humping. I believe it started off as an innocent dance move. He'd just be dancing around the house, and then BAM! - once, maybe twice a week. I thought it was just a phase. Then, gradually, the moves were happening more and more frequently. Soon it was every day, then multiple times a day, and now, the very uncomfortable, rapid succession.
A couple of weeks ago I posted on Facebook that I watched my son dry-hump his way to the bus stop. Is this really the best use of the pelvic thrust? And every night after dinner, when I ask him to jump in the shower and get ready for bed, he looks at me and says - in staccato - "O. K.," and thrusts with each syllable.
How lovely...dinner and a show.
Since I didn't have younger brothers growing up, I don't even know what "this" is. Can I expect more of this thrusting? Is he doing it at school? Is there a support group I should know about?
Look, I'm not naive. I know what I'm dealing with is nothing compared to what lies ahead. And if there's any truth to, "Payin' for your raisin'," well, let's just say that I probably ought to just trade him in for a kitten now and stay ahead of the game. I put my parents through hell. Hell, I tell ya. So Ryan, if you think that you're going to put one over on me, you've got another thing coming. I have done it all, little man. I will always be one step ahead of you. I have 30 years on you, I am wiser than you and I will always, ALWAYS outsmart you.
....as long as it doesn't involve negative exponents or math of any kind.