Enter middle school – the boy wants to play a sport.  He chooses Cross Country.

By the skin of our teeth we got him in for a physical in time…and he started the same day (two Monday’s ago).

Thursday he was in his first meet.  I was so proud of him!  I’ve never had a good stamina for running, and I envy his persistence at it.  They run almost 2 miles in middle school meets – and the kid forgot his inhaler!

But he did it!

Not only did he run the full length of the meet looking just a bit winded at the end – he came in 20th place AND beat his best time by over 2 minutes!

Then after it was all said and done…he still had time to flirt…with TWO girls…
That girl in black? The opposing team.  The girl in red?  He says he USED to like her, but now she’s just a friend.

Yup. that’s my boy.

It’s the eyes.  The kid has melt-worthy blue eyes. I’m in SO much trouble now that he’s noticing girls.

Oy, the headaches of a near-teen.

So yes…a VERY proud Mama ready for the next meet!!

I look at my son in concern.  This could be anything.

“I almost asked out a girl.”

Uh…back the truck up, you WHAT?  I just grin, and ask why he didn’t.

“Someone beat me to it.”

I blink a few times, trying to digest this.  Clear my throat, “Okay.  So why didn’t you ask her out too?”

“Well, cuz then she’d be going on a double date.”

I resist the urge to facepalm right in front of him, stifle my laughter and point out that this is NOT what I meant.

He has since assured me that this coupling won’t last because Cindy* is country, and the other boy is city/hiphop.  “It won’t last until next week.”

My poor boy.  I’ll be having his Dad have a chat with him tonight.  He needs a few clues thrown his way.

I look at my son in concern.  This could be anything.

“I almost asked out a girl.”

Uh…back the truck up, you WHAT?  I just grin, and ask why he didn’t.

“Someone beat me to it.”

I blink a few times, trying to digest this.  Clear my throat, “Okay.  So why didn’t you ask her out too?”

“Well, cuz then she’d be going on a double date.”

I resist the urge to facepalm right in front of him, stifle my laughter and point out that this is NOT what I meant.

He has since assured me that this coupling won’t last because Cindy* is country, and the other boy is city/hiphop.  “It won’t last until next week.”

My poor boy.  I’ll be having his Dad have a chat with him tonight.  He needs a few clues thrown his way.