After yesterday’s unpleasantness, I didn’t sleep too well. I got up at 6.30 this morning and emailed the friend who had stumbled across my blog. I explained the situation and said I hoped I hadn’t offended her. She was very nice about it and quickly got back to me saying there was no problem. My friend S was very sweet and sympathetic and made me feel oh so much better. I have very nice friends, who are very indulgent when it comes to my little nervous breakdowns. I think there was some worry that my previous post may have been worded rather too strongly but I think that people probably realise I didn’t intend to cause offense.
So, moving on, I made a most distressing discovery this afternoon.
It’s like this, see? When I got my beautiful, deluxe, shiny phone of spectacularity last week, I gave Rhubarb my old sim to use. He had a prepaid one and call costs etc, would be better with mine. I had been intending to grab a couple of items that I had stored on the sim, particularly a message from a friend about her daughter’s birthday party this weekend.
Rhubarb arrived home from school and I asked to borrow his phone. He handed it over without a second thought. He had been thoroughly tidy and deleted the message that I was interested in. Arse. I will have to call my friend to get the address for the party. I was mildly annoyed but considering I hadn’t asked him to keep it, there is not much I could do.
Now, I am not the snooping into things sort of parent. Oh all right, I AM the snooping into things sort of parent but I would like my kids to think that I am not because that way they keep their guard down. When I was browsing his message inbox I stumbled across some messages. Several messages. Messages that made me feel a touch queasy and had me break out in a sweat.
Up until now, Rhubarb has maintained that he has no interest whatsoever in girls. He doesn’t like them. This is fine with me. I channeled my mother-in-law, whose dearest wish was always to have a gay or lesbian child, and assured him that whoever he liked, he could tell me. Much eye-rolling ensued. Honestly, teenagers, they are too easy. If you are a parent who enjoys teasing and tormenting their children during spare moments you’ll find you really enjoy the teenage years.
Sorry, got sidetracked, so, I was looking through his inbox and there they were. Messages. Messages from a real-live girl named B (I twittered her name earlier but have since thought better of it, you can check there if you’re curious). Now, bear in mind that he is in the room so I really didn’t have time to read all of the messages. From what I could see, some were innocent enough, discussing the antics of fellow classmates. Some, um, not so much. Some looked very much like the flirtations of a girl who is attempting to woo my son.
He is 13.
Now, I can’t admit to having read these messages. I can’t admit to having seen them. If I do, the fragile balance of ‘cool Mum who doesn’t interfere too much’ and ‘teenage boy who is willing to volunteer some real information to parents’ will be thrown out. He will no longer volunteer anything. We knew this girl existed because of previous snooping efforts he had mentioned to Beefcake something about one text he had received from her. So he’s sharing, kind of, which I don’t want to ruin but fark.
What if this girl is horrible? He’s only thirteen, this can’t be okay can it? I mean some skanky, skankbag is after my baby!
So, I’m stuck, unable to do anything but have a little giggle about it with Beefcake. I tried telling Rhubarb at dinner tonight that you can get a girl pregnant by holding her hand. He didn’t believe me.
I am sooooooo not good at keeping things to myself. Not saying anything to him about this just might kill me but I will do it, because that’s the kind of Mum I am.
So people, how old were you when you first started having “relationships”? I must confess I was an early starter. My first umm, ‘physical’ relationship was at fourteen. That’s why I am so worried???
I’m not a hypocrite at all.