Stepping up to the plate…


A few days ago, if you recall, the boy handed me a contract concerning his British Lit term paper. What I failed to report then is he handed me a second contract for something entirely different.”What’s this..?” I asked without taking the time to read the paper. “I’ve decided to take your advice,” He began before I quickly interjected, “Well, well, do wonders never cease?” He flashed me a quick smirk and said, “Ha,” before continuing. “As I said before I was rudely interrupted is that I decided to take your advice and take care of one of my friends”. “I see…” I replied while reading over the terms of the contract. “But this doesn’t mean I will, only that these are my intentions at this moment…” He rationalized aloud.  “Uh huh… and when does this contract take effect?” I asked bemused by his willingness to take one for the team. “Um, I’m not sure…” He replied, as a cloud of uncertainty displayed across his face.

Typical bay behavior, not possessing all the details necessary for me to sign the contract.

“Go look on the school’s webpage please,” I instructed and began to fill out the contract. “Mom, it doesn’t say. The only thing I could find is the contract”. Believing my son was being his usual obtuse self, I went to the page, thoroughly opened all the tabs only to realize the boy was telling the truth. “Well, that’s dumb…” I said to myself, before taking to Facebook in search of the answer, April 30th.


On April 30, 2016, my bay is going to attend the Junior/Senior Prom AS FRIENDS, he’s quick to add; with Alexa, the same girl who has asked him to every Sadie Hawkins dance since their Freshman year, for which he’s turned her down flat–every single year. “I told her if someone else ends up asking her, I’ll graciously bow out so I won’t have to go…” He cheerfully told me Wednesday shortly after I paid for a tux rental. “Sorry Bay, you’re going regardless, now that there’s money involved,” I said and watched his face fall.

Can you believe this? My obtuse, totally clueless baby boy is taking a girl to Prom. Oh to be a fly on the wall that watches the two of them sit in the corner all evening and discuss superheroes (the boys idea of what will happen at prom, not mine) an anime programs instead of dance. “Bay, she’s going to want at least one slow dance and one fast one,” I explained. “Oh, what did I get myself into?” He whined. “You’re being a really good friend to her. Just pretend you’re at a wedding…” I offered and laughed before adding “Just so long as it’s not YOUR wedding…” I added as he whined loudly about his impending “date” with one of his best friends.



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