Dinner

So on Monday, Boy 1 was on the phone with his girlfriend, M. I walked past where he was simultaneously surfing the internet and devoting his attention to said girlfriend and asked when he was bringing her to dinner. Because in our family, to poke at is to love. And he asked her when she was coming to dinner, again because to poke is to love and dinner with his mother? How worse of a poking could there be?

She's coming to dinner on Friday. She's nervous, poor thing. Apparently her family doesn't poke or use sarcasm to express their undying love and devotion to each other. Huh. Imagine that. Actually, I get the impression that her family is a bit ...rough. As in, her mother and her mother's boyfriend are throwing a party Friday night and so are not going to meet the boyfriend and his mother where she's going to dinner. If my 14 year old child were going to their house, you can bet I'd meet them. And ensure they'd have no privacy and that they were not the type of parents that think letting two 14 year olds hang out in the bedroom with the door closed is not a big deal. Or things like that. But whatever.


So tonight Boy 1 cleaned his room, voluntarily, painstakingly arranging his deodarent at the back of his dresser and his cologne at the front, even though he knows she won't actually be in his room. It is at the end of the hallway next to the bathroom, so she could see it and therefore, it needs to be clean. Well, at least cleaner. Let's not go crazy here.

So, as Boy 1 said tonight, this will be his first date. And he's excited about it, not the least bit upset that his first date includes dinner with his mom. In fact, I offered to invite his dad too because Him is Boy 1's friend and he surprised me. He didn't want Him there, he wanted it to be just me. I won't let that go to my head, I'm sure there's some nefarious reason behind it, but that's ok. I'll go with it. And my baby's dating.

Crap I'm old.