Originally uploaded by melanieiscushti
See him? That’s my 13 year old son. The hula skirt was his idea, I didn’t even have to pay him to get into it. In fact, he insisted on a coconut bra to go with it but we weren’t able to procure such an item on such short notice. He looks fun, doesn’t he? Fun & sensible & tactful & all of those other things one wishes most 13 year olds were and which I get compliments on with regard to his behaviour all the time. All of those things – until it comes to his social life, at which point all logic & common sense fly out the window and are replaced by hormones & hair gel. This is what happens when one turns 13. I know this because all of his friends engage in the same behaviours.
So today he received a third party invitation to a little soiree amongst classmates to mourn the end of summer & the beginning of the school year. The invite was third party because that’s what 13 year olds do – the young lady holding the party invited all of the girls personally and contacted the one boy from the class she has known since they were both knee-high to grasshoppers because their parents were neighbours to spread the news amongst the Y chromes. The party starts at 5pm. They’re going to the movies. Everything ends at 10pm. She lives somewhere on the north end of a street 2 blocks west of us which runs parallel to ours. End communication. That’s it, that’s all.
Holy fuck! When he went to parties when he was 12 we got cute little invitations on dollar store cards which cited where the party was, what hours it ran from, the phone number of the abode at which it would take place, the names of parents, and by god almighty, there was even an address written in there! Today it seriously, for reals, took from 11:03am, when he received the initial phone call, 3rd party invite, until 5:26pm when he left & 289,356 phone calls (if you do the math that ads up to a lot more than the minutes I get for ‘free’ on a monthly basis) in between to get all of the relevant details a parent needs to know in order to not have a coronary while her eldest, but still green behind the ears, child is out & about town. Holy fuck! I swear I’ve acquired that popping vein in my forehead my high school shop teacher had.