11 January 2006

Oh The Drama

Son is 'off sick' today. At eleven years old and in the final year of junior school, he has received his first secret, 'tell no-one or I'll die' love letter. In very flowery lettering, after all the warnings to tell nobody, she declared that she loves him from the bottom of her everlasting heart. Quote. He is to find out who she is and then come and see her about going public.

I've had two days now of him veering between demanding that her wishes be respected, and sitting there staring at it mumbling things like 'Oh my God this is shit scary.' Yesterday he realised that even the paper was scented.

I've watched him procrastinate as hard as he possibly can about writing a letter back, although in his worldview it would be unthinkable to just walk up to the girl that he has been told (but can't prove) wrote the note. A written reply it has to be, and he hates writing.

Yesterday, inspite of her warnings, word had obviously crept out from her side of things and he was inundated with pupils, even from other years, asking him if he was in love with Ms X. With no written reply to pass via her friend who is playing postman, he decided to fend them all off with 'That's private information and I can't tell you.'

At least the fear of being bullied and belittled by some of the nosier boys in his class has abated, albeit only under the new sensation that every pair of eyes in the school will be on him until they meet and hold hands; or not.

Today, waking to realise that he still hadn't put his thoughts to paper, he developed the kind of angst that goes to the stomach. Grey, listless, panicky and veering constantly between wanting to go to school and wanting to hide under a rock whilst doing an excellent impression of a drama queen throughout for a solid hour and a half, he wore me down. I sent his sister to school by taxi and phoned in to say he had stomach cramps and was off sick.

I was looking for the picture here, which about covers it really, when he asked if he could use his dad's computer. That was it.

There is now a 208 word love letter ready to be printed off, composed, corrected and completed in under half an hour. School would be so proud; he certainly is; being decided that he has stated his feelings plainly. Well plainly enough that if the letter gets stolen he won't be a laughing stock.

It starts with a smiley, ends with yours happily and tells her how impressed he is - that it 'took a lot of guts'(sic) to write the first letter, which remains secret as requested.

Well, not that secret obviously, now his rotten mother has blogged it - but he doesn't know that.

The stomach ache is gone and replaced by a silly grin. He can't wait to get to school but at this precise moment feels it will have to wait until tomorrow because going in late, today, would be 'too obvious.' His words.

Meantime he has gone in search of his personal CD to listen to some music - something fulfilling and uplifting and levelling, something that makes him feel like things are all working out. In his case, that's Frontier Psychiatrist by The Avalanches (Crazy in the coconut - that boy needs therapy.)

I love him!


doris said...

Wow! I don't know whether to laugh at the drama queeness of it all; to feel scared about any possible betrayal; or to just think what amazing maturity he has shown. What a lovely chappie and how splendid to have such a declaration of love. Awwww.

Pity the "essay" can't be handed in at school as course work. Amazing what kids can achieve when they have the incentive. But incredible considering his Aspieness that he was able to work his way through the diplomatic minefield of a reply.

You should be well tickled :-)

Ally said...

Ah, bless him, that's wonderful. And I thought that romance was dead!

Wulfweard The White said...

Dad is very proud.

I wonder how many more he will get Feb 14th?

melinama said...

That's a hysterical story. When my son was in eighth grade a girl liked him and they went on a date. Later he (following in the footsteps of untold generations of guys before him) wouldn't call her again. His conclusion: "it's too much trouble to have a girlfriend."

Rain said...

Aren't teens fun? Mine was anguished last night because her boyfriend doesn't know how to hold a proper phone conversation. I tried telling her that men take a big longer to develop these types of skills, but she wouldn't listen, and insisted on taking it personally.

zilla said...

Ah, young love.

Eleven, though?

Hamster is about to turn eleven!

All I can think is, uh-oh!

Well done, Son. Well done.

Cheryl said...

Zilla - Son only turned eleven late last November, so he and Hamster and the smitten girl are all in the same year group.

Sorry if that's even more scary.

Writer Mom said...

Now my guts are in knots hoping it all goes well for him.
I once had a love letter read aloud in the lunchroom...by my brother's best friend to another girl (and company)...all kept looking my way and guffawing.
That was high school.
Your son is so much nicer than that guy. Keeping it secret. What a gentleman!
Now I'm just mad.

If I ever invent a time machine, I'm going to blip back into my 14-year-old space...just for those few seconds...so when they look over at me, instead of the freshman, they'll see the thirty something woman of now flipping them off.

Then I'm going to smash the machine so it can do no evil.
Unless you'd like to borrow it.

Milt Bogs said...

It sure is tough being male.
I hope that letter wasn't from his teacher.

bart said...

god, i'd love him too... i can remember all my primary school quesiness about ever even liking a girl and then having the nerve to come out with it as well...

pity the poor pre-teen boy, for insecurité totale will be his blessing... (i was one of them, sigh...)

fineartist said...

I'm crazy about that kid of yours too. He's the bees knees. Hope you saved his letter in word, so he can re read it and assure himself repeatedly that he didn't say something too, you know, insert appropriate word here. xxx, Lori

jane said...

Young love...I must say it made my eyes light up. I think we all must be able to remember those years, when we first became aware of things....like scented paper. I'm almost speechless for your son & feel butterflies in my stomache! I've got to go read today's post now.