She will always be too young to talk to boys
You know it must be something awful when I have to do my personal rendition of “Stop! In The Name of Love,’ complete with hand, facial and body gestures. Kennie Sue, our 10-year-old friend, I have learned, talks to … I can hardly bring myself to say it, let alone write it … well…here goes…BOYS.
I have dreaded the possibility since the day she was born. But I thought we had a couple more years before it happened.
During one of her recent visits she seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time on the telephone. She would call someone and talk, talk, talk. She’d hang up. A moment or two later, the phone would ring. She would race to answer it. More talk. She’d hang up again. And the phone would ring a few moments later. Surprisingly, it was always someone calling for her.
It wasn’t until later, when we (my lovely wife and I) quizzed her on whom she was talking to that we were informed it was several of her chums.
“Well,’ I said, “as long as they are girl friends.’
“Oh, I talk to boys, too,’ Kennie Sue replied.
“What?’ I said, incredulously.
“I can talk to boys,’ she said.
“Oh, no you can’t,’ I responded, using my most matter-of-fact tone.
“Yes, I can,’ she said, defiantly.
“My dad let’s me,’ she added, pushing her chin out for emphasis.
I doubted that because I know how protective her father is.
“Well, I’m not your dad, so when you are here, you can’t talk to boys.’
That carried about as much weight as a feather.
As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t need to think about boys, let alone talk to them. I plan to speak to her father so we can agree that she won’t date until she’s at least 50 (and then with a couple of chaperones). As far as marriage – well, I won’t have to worry about that because there’s no fellow good enough.
But trying to get my point across to her is like trying to leap over the Grand Canyon – while carrying an elephant on your back.
Impossible.
But my chance came later that evening.
I had been humming an old Diana Ross tune, one that Kennie Sue is familiar with.
She and my lovely wife were sitting on the couch and I was pretty sure I could hear some whispers.
When I stepped into the living room, Kennie Sue said, smiling, “If you sing that and do the movements I won’t talk to boys.’
“Yes, Jim, why don’t you do that,’ my lovely wife added. My wife constantly warns me that we will be in for it when Kennie Sue reaches her teen years. “What are you going to do then,’ she has said to me dozens of times. I think she was testing me.
I’m no coward so I called their bluff. I sang as much of the song as I know, complete with the hip movements, hands turned palm up in a “stop gesture,’ wobbling my head back and forth. The dog howled. The cats ran for cover. It’s a wonder it didn’t register on a Richter scale somewhere.
Of course I knew it would be futile. Kennie Sue might promise not to talk to boys today but there’s always tomorrow.
She’s turning into a young lady and that’s something we will all have to deal with.
I suppose the person I pity most is her dad. And I might buy him a gift, just to let him know I sympathize.
But what could I get him.
I know. I’ll get him a shotgun. I think he’s going to need it.
Have a good day.
Jim Pletcher is the Herald-Standard’s business editor. E-mail: jpletcher@heraldstandard.com.