This weekend, my daughter met boys in a band in the basement of her neighbor friend. The boys who roam around here are not enough, I guess. Now, boys from different parts of the city are finding out about our cul-de-sac. Em learned a couple of new guitar chords, a strand of 'Dust in the Wind' (of course!), and the boys who are juniors gave the girls their concert schedule (downtown in a local cafe, at a festival). The next day, they called and wanted the girls to come to their basement for band practice.
"Can I, Mom! Please!" her friend flanked her with also begging eyes.
They know I'm a bit cautious. Her righteous mom had already checked them out, though, with intuitive talking and discernment, and so I agreed slowly.
Yet, the whole time ....God, you must protect my daughter. Please! Please! Please! Quite the royal beggar these days.
It's just ... I can hear the Kenny Chesney song "There's Goes My Life/Everything", and I'm tearing up in major ways at stoplights (this morning!). That song fits so well with everything her. Embarrassing!
It's just ... she and I are close. We laugh all the time together. We only feud a little. And now she's pretty and vulnerable and in high school.
These things just happen quickly, don't they? Soon, she'll be married with baby (hopefully in that order). I've only recently thought of myself as grandma material. Am I getting a sparkle in my eye for some little one? God, no, not yet! Keep that one up there sliding, wahooing, in the clouds still. I am much too young for granny spectacles. I barely have any gray hairs. I still can run
Alright ... no more band boys. No more boys circling our house. She's grounded!
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