Okay, it's only one girl.
But a young female person did just now call and leave a message on our land line's answering machine for Neil, my almost-14-year-old ninth-grader, with her phone number. He says that at school, she'd asked for his phone number. He's sitting over there on the living-room couch right now, continuing to play his computer game as if this is no big deal. I told him that it was fine with me if he wanted to take the phone into his room to call her back. "Oh, I'll write down her phone number," he says, not making any move away from his computer. Either he's trying to play it cool or, more likely, he's like all of the nerd boys with whom I fell madly in love at that age who really hadn't yet developed much interest or skill in dealing with girls.
I never had the nerve at 13 or 14 (or at any time during adolescence!) to call a boy. And there's another girl on the school bus with whom Neil watches movies on his laptop sometimes.
Huh. My son, the chick magnet. His voice already breaks as it decides anew each moment what register it will land in. What's next—facial hair? A learner's permit? Ack!
adolescence boys girls Neil parenting EditorMom