Not Quite Grown, Just Yet

Nasty, sweaty, hot, loud, and crowded. That was what I saw, smelled, heard when I walked into the middle school gym to pick my preteen up from his first school dance.

I waited til just a few minutes before 9, not wanting to show up and embarrass him. (However, on my ride over, I giggled thinking that I should have went in my pj pants, worn out t-shirt, and fuzzy slippers, just to embarrass him, I know, I am evil!) I parked my van, walked across the grassy area, all the while having flash backs from my own days at this school, and I went in through the entrance of the cafeteria.

I was immediately hit with a stench of sweaty preteens. It was horrible. Of course me being so OCD these days, I thought about the fact that Monday this sweaty dance floor would transform back to a cafeteria. Yuck!

Then, I am not sure if anyone else noticed, but the music was entirely too loud. Haven't they ever heard of soft yoga-like music?

I surely have not been to an establishment where dancing is involved lately, (heck, I never really went to them even as a young adult) but this thing they called "dancing", looked more like a bunch of jumping and flinging to me. Sort of like a cafeteria/dance floor full of epileptic kids.

I spotted my child immediately. He and his friends were sitting on the stage watching all the commotion. It was a little humorous to me since that is exactly how I acted at my dances.

I made my way to the back of the cafeteria where I saw some parents, okay, Mommies, that were not quite as brave, or stupid as me. They had stayed the entire time. Actually, maybe I was the smart one by not volunteering to chaperon. It was a little humorous that when I said hello to them, they pretty much yelled back at me their greetings. Their ear drums were surely paying for this racket.

As far as Chase goes, he seemed to have a good time. I could tell that he was a little taken back from the whole event, but still I could see a little happiness in his eyes. We drove home and he chatted the whole way home.

I was so proud of him, yet sad as a Mommy when he said this to me, "Mom, I left some of my books in my locker today, (which was a whole other ordeal with this whole middle school thing) and I sort of feel like, I don't know, maybe more like a grown up, you know, using my locker, going to a dance, stuff like that. So proud...but wait...where is my baby.

Aw yeah, there he is, a few minutes later in his room, with a wrestling figurine in each hand, fighting each other, flying all over his room, making all these silly noises. Not quite grown yet...thank God.