soapboxdiner

L is for LOVE

When Steven stopped going to play with the kids in the neighborhood, a part of me started really worrying about him. Does he not feel safe here? Does he feel accepted by the other children? Are there real-life boogy men making him uncomfortable? And a mother worries about these things.

You don't want to go running about the neighborhood checking up on your child's social life. Sure, it is your obligation and responsibility to keep your child safe and as reasonably happy as you can, but to follow him around the neighborhood spying on his (quite imaginative, sensative, and *shh!!* secret) playtime would only single him out as a momma's boy. Which he IS but that's a secret too.

So in an effort to remain cool with his newly discovered private life while balancing it with a little motherly supervision, I as kindly as possible suggest that he bring the kids from the neighborhood over to our house so I can meet them. And there most definitely ARE some dysfunctional nearly to the point of being criminal children and families here. (It is a trailer park, after all.) These children are banned from my son's play list out of hand.

But when he came inside last night from playing his soccer ball in the common area, and we discussed this, he simply replied coolly after much contemplation, "You are kinda my girlfriend, mom. I mean, I love ya like a mother. But, what, Heidi IS my half girlfriend, ya know. I can't play with her!"

Isn't that the cutest thing you've ever heard? My son isn't fretting himself over playing with the bad seeds, he just "has a half-girlfriend, ya know."

6:10 am - 09.04.02
previous | next

Home | Archives | Profile | Notes | DiaryLand | Random Entry