Monday, January 28, 2008

Warning, Mom: I'm about to be wildly inappropriate

One of the really sad things about trying to be semi-pseudonymous and protect your kids' privacy is that you can't post that great photo of your daughter and her father from Friday night, as they were getting ready to leave for the Daddy-Daughter (aka 'bring your favorite guy') Dance at our elementary school. Which is a pity, because my girl looked AWESOME. Too mature, and too gorgeous, but awesome nonetheless. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Em had an absolute blast at the dance, and even Baroy came home grinning. But the most fun, for me, came before the watching Baroy struggle with the whole concept of dating his 10-year-old daughter.

It started when I tried to convince him that he should get Em a wrist corsage for the evening, and he made very possible excuse short of "I'm just afraid I'd stick her with the pin and then she'd get flesh-eating bacteria and die and it'd be all my fault."

"What is your PROBlem?" I finally asked, exasperated.

"It just seems...icky," he admitted. "I can't explain. But it just seems wrong to give your daughter a corsage the way you gave your prom date a corsage...especially knowing what I expected from my prom date."

I would say that I rolled my eyes so violently they may just stay stuck that way, but the truth is, I was soon presented with a MUCH BETTER reason to roll my eyes...and to actually start seeing it Baroy's way, courtesy of the "How to make the Daddy-Daughter Dance even more special" notice that came home the night before the event.

I can't find the actual sheet--and more's the pity for that, because I've forgotten most of it--but I do know that one of the tips will be forever emblazoned in that "ewwwww, icky!" part of my brain. That would be the tip that suggested that, just before re-entering your home that night, the Dad should tell the daughter what a good time he'd had, and what a special night it was.

Maybe it's the way it was worded, which I can't recall precisely. Or maybe it's just that I'm sick. I know that most people would probably just see that as sweet, but my mind went directly to The Bad Place.

"And after that?" I said, my mouth gaping in astonishment. "Does it say whether or not you should use tongue when you kiss her goodnight? Because that's totally where it seems like they're going."

It's moments like this, I believe, that convince Baroy that he made a good choice in marrying me. Because I understand. And am willing to go there--no matter how awful there is--for the sake of a good, lasting belly laugh. Which, of course, I got.


Leila said...

I get.

I recently sent my spouse to Reno with our daughter, for a gymnastics meet. "I don't want to be near those breakfast buffets" was the reason I didn't want to go, not to mention that he is the one who can do her hair, not me.

Anyhow. Where was I?

Oh yeah. So. Dh and 10 year old are headed to a Casino in Reno and I comment to dh: "Yipes, here I am sending you and child to a Casino probably filled with half naked women."

To which he responded: "Those half naked women are our daughter and her friends."

Good point.

He just read this over my shoulder and said that, aside from the kids, there were no half naked anything. More like half balding old men chainsmoking and chainslotting.

Green said...

It is kind of gross. But you know what else? It's also gross that adults need suggestions on how to talk to their children.

Am I bummed that my dad never complimented how I look except once in my entire life (the day we bought my bat mitzvah dress, and I had to ask my mom if she'd told him to say it)? Yes. But I'd be even more bummed if he'd been prompted and told what to say.