Everybody knows boys between the ages of 7-12 are usually not so keen on girls, you know – cooties and all. That’s why the conversation that took place while we were at a restaurant having dinner a few nights ago still cracks me up! As my boys were talking, I flashed back to this scene in Bambi, you know the one where Bambi, Flower and Thumper (otherwise known as Caleb, Noah and Micah) are getting schooled about Twitterpation.
Their friend, the wise owl says “… Nearly everybody gets twitterpated in the springtime. For example: You’re walking alone, minding your business. You’re looking neither to the left, nor to the right, when all of a sudden you run smack into a pretty face. Woo-woo!”
The Goss boys didn’t wait for spring nor did they hold out for adolescence. (I never realized how the end of that word is rightly pronounced less-sense.) The dreaded disease for all boys everywhere hit the 3 Bros Flying Circus this Summer. Bam, Bam, Bam like dominoes on Jessie Porter’s card table.
Twitterpation surprisingly struck my youngest son first. When my hubby picked Micah (7) up from Young Writer’s Camp, his counselor said, Micah has a budding friendship. He’s been carrying a girl’s books, opening her door and retrieving her lunch. Now if you know my son Micah, you’d know that he once declined to jump in a bounce house because it was pink and had Dora the Explorer painted on it.
The following day, Micah came home from camp, jumped on the computer and asked. “Mom how do you spell trampoline?” Followed by, “is dad’s number 729-XXXX.” Like any mom who respects her son’s privacy and treats him as an equal – NOT – I said, “move over boy and let me see what you’re doing.” They don’t call me the Ringmaster for nothing!
The letter read: Dear Mindy (name changed to protect the not so innocent), Want to come over to my house for a playdate. We can jump on my trampoline and I can teach you how to play Minecraft. My dad’s number is 729-XXXX. Give me a call. Micah
I was surprised by my reaction when Mindy actually did text Micah (several times). You would think that a Pastor’s wife would have tsk’d, tsk’d the bold moves of the little vixen, who by the way was two years older than Micah. No sir, I am ashamed to say that I walked around with a big smile thinking, “that’s my boy!” Of course. after the fourth text we cut them off and let them both know that they are way too young to be text buddies.
Fast forward a about three weeks. A few days ago while sitting in church at our school’s formal, reverent, convocation, I notice a girl two rows up continuously looking back at my oldest son Noah (12). Each time she looked back, Noah gave her a smile and a nod. Like the patient, subtle mom that I am – NOT – I leaned over and whispered, “Noah, is that girl looking at you?” He answered “YUP, and I hope she’ll be in my class”. I was floored…
Following convocation we all went out to dinner where Noah proceeded to tell his brothers about the girl in church. Caleb (10, middle son and breakfast zombie) says “Oh man that’s nothing. I saw a new girl in my class at the back to school picnic the other day and she is TURBO CUTE! She walked by and was all (flipping hair in slow motion smiling and looking over his shoulder while batting eyelashes) and I was like (eyes wide open flashing a huge cheesy grin)!”
We all laughed until we cried and I’m sure that the folks sitting at the surrounding tables were entertained as well. That night after everyone was asleep, I realized that I was exhibiting double standards. If my boys were girls, I would not have found these stories funny and would be up praying for my daughters instead of praying for forgiveness for my own double standards.
I’ve had a couple of days to think and pray and have come to the conclusion that I’m happy that my boys are experiencing some mild symptoms of “twitterpation”. We can talk with them and model for them the proper ways to respectfully enjoy the company of the wonderful creatures God created named girls.
In a few years, when they are inevitably fully twitterpated they will know that they can come to Mom and Dad for advice because we shared a letter, and a whisper, and a laugh!
Until next time…Fly high and dazzle ’em!
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