The factoids of life.

Dear Internet,

The day is fast approaching when NOS will start parading an array of potential mates before our eyes. However, prior to his doing that, he has to get some details straight about the distaff side. See, the poor lad had just begun to realize that, to the benighted possessor of a Y chromosome, the female of the species simply makes no sense. (I might grant the opposite is equally true, but in this case this is monumentally irrelevant.)

At least NOS receives aid and comfort from having a dad like me, which is more than I ever got from my old man. In that regard, my dad was ideally unhelpful, teasing at woefully inappropriate moments and singularly lacking in advice.

Well, that's not true, strictly speaking. Following is the sum total of advice I got on making a splash with women:

"Ask them to dance. Girls like to dance."

Suffice it to say that what little I figured out about women, I had to learn on my own after much trial and even much more error.

Anyway, NOS is feeling a bit out of sorts because being Not The Tallest Fifth Grader makes him feel a bit inadequate...never mind that a gaggle of sixth grade girls have searing crushes on him --- to which he is utterly blind, and even if he weren't, he'd feel weird because they are much taller and a bit older -- and frequently send him text messages in the emergencies-only cell phone.

However, the Christmas spirit has taken hold, and he has been ASKED to the Something Something Junior Christmas Something. The girl (from another school!) might well be 6'3" and five years older, NOS is not the sort of kid that says "no" to these sorts of requests. Especially if he gets to wear a suit and get down with his bad self.

And I don't care how much he whines, I am NOT buying him that tuxedo.



Stomper Girl said…
I quite like Joke Senior's advice.
Badger said…
I sent the boy child to his first school dance (earlier this year) in what amounted to Dockers and a short-sleeved button shirt, and it turned out he was woefully OVERdressed. Apparently at the dances around here, the kids just wear shorts and tank tops, or something.

The world is going to hell.
Stomper Girl said…
What there was of it.
BabelBabe said…
oh go on, buy him the tux. you know you wanna. it doesn't have to be handmade out of wool from the belly of Himalayan goats, or whatever kind of fussiness you insist upon for yourself....but if you do - I want photos.
Caro said…
They grow up too fast. I'll bet the pictures of it will be quite cute.
Joke said…
SG - Yes, the actual bit of advice was handy, but it sort of left me hanging as re. what one did when the post-dance scenario arrived. My left cheek and my ego might have had to endure far less trauma had I been given a shade more social "tech support."

Badge - This dance turned out to be more of a long sleeve and chinos sort of event. There seems to have been minimal dancing involved; with the girls off in one corner giggling and the boys off in another looking motion-sick and disturbed.

BabBab - My late grandfather made all my suits until I was about 9ish. If you want to see what a warping effect it has on the male psyche to spend an early childhood cosseted in bespoke raiments lovingly handmade by a monarchist artisan, have a protracted look around this blog.


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