Joe-Henry has entered the age, too early, I think, where I embarrass him. I remember being embarrassed about my parents much, much later. Junior high, maybe even highschool. But apparently it starts earlier now. Like puberty, I guess. Our neighbor boy was having kind of an all weekend birthday party with his buddies. He turned ten, and they were all running around playing war (I know, I know), and Joe-Henry beeeeegggggged me to let him go over there. But here's the thing. He wasn't invited. I let him take over his present, after he basically walked out the door with it when I was in the bathroom, and the boy was very nice about it, and he even let Joe-Henry play for five minutes. I plan on talking to his mom tomorrow and apologizing for JH trying to crash the party.
The thing is, when I called him home, he was so mortified. Like he wanted these kids to know that he lives over here by himself, eating whipped cream out of a can and staying up 'til 10:00 p.m. watching tivo'd Noggin shows. It's not like I said, "Hey, Junior Baby, come home! It's time to nurse!" I just reminded him that his five minutes were up, and I had some things for him to do. I didn't really, but I thought I'd help him save face a bit with an excuse. Honestly, I just didn't want him crashing the party. Because the boy next door is an older boy, and it's important not to have to entertain a six year old at your own party. Anyway, Joe-Henry was rolling his eyes like a professional teenager, and at one point he called me "Polka Dot Mom Face!" As you can tell, he was really mad. It was so hard not to smile. But I didn't dare, because he was so mad, and soooo soooo serious.
He was also embarrassed by me when I tried to horn in on his action with our houseguest, D, and also tonight, his cousin Heather. She's in her mid-twenties, and he adores her, and it seemed that every time I opened my mouth to say any motherly thing, like "eat your dinner" and the always popular "time for your bath", I got some serious stinkeye.
What's it going to be like when I ACTUALLY become an embarrassment? When he's in Jr. High and High School and I hear a song I like at the grocery store and sing along out loud and dance down the aisle; or try to talk to his friends in hip kid lingo; or talk about the penis surgery he had as a baby to his first girlfriend? Oh, the plans I have.
We're having a playdate tomorrow with a boy from his class, and I'm looking forward to him acting his age. If he acts like my little boy again, I promise to go light on the mortification.