So this weekend, we went to the birthday party of our son’s betrothed (she turned 8, he is 7.5).  He asked her to marry him at summer camp and she said, “sure!”  We adore her and her parents so life is good so far. And both children attend the same school (but different classes, thank G-d).

Her parents (machertunim in Yiddish) and we went out recently and, among the stories, there was one in which the husband, a gentle giant (did I mention giant?) went — in his own words — ape-shit on someone.  He was justified in his reaction but, still, I thought, I am not sure that I want to tell him about an “oops” that could occur in adolescence if our children are still betrothed.  So, I am thinking about a chastity belt for boys.  All this going through my mind as we listen to jazz at a club and eat great food and wine.  I then start thinking about body armor for my son AND me.

My son is a gentlemen and a hyper-heterosexual young man.  Oxymoronic in the truest sense.  I guess being raised by lesbians will do that.  I am afraid, like any sane parent, about adolescence and what kids can watch on TV and then do in the instant that a parent is not watching.  Case in point: we are watching the Jets game on Sunday and a Viagara commercial comes on.  Try to explain erectile dysfunction to your 7.5 year-old to whom, at age 3, we had to plead “point it down” (so the pee would go in the overnight diaper) after “exploring”.

SO, back to the party.  The birthday girl’s mother says that the leader of their play group, an experienced child expert in something (vays nischt, as they say in Yiddish), thinks they are like brother-sister and not boyfriend-girlfriend.  I am relieved only to the extent that I don’t have to worry about plastic surgery after the gentle giant is finished with me if, G-d forbid, I had to explain about crazy adolescence and hormones (think, military school).  The grandmother overhears this and says, “the way they touch each other and interact, it is DEFINITELY boyfriend/girlfriend”.  Mothers know these things and I am scared once again and thinking about multi-generational living as a consequence of my son’s future indiscretion.  Until POB (partner of blogger) tells me that I am over-reacting.  Then I remember that she thought that the “bad girls” in hebrew school (yes, we’ve known each other since age 10) were still virgins.  I sink into despair.  I check my investments.  I move money to a separate account for contingencies.  I rest easy while searching the internet for his and her matching chastity belts.

This parent thing could kill a person.  I KNOW I was easier on my parents.  Or maybe they were not as crazy as I am.  Maybe they should have been because I did some crazy things.  Ok, I am stopping this loop because only bad things can come of it.