Boy as man
The first time it happened was at the Matt Mays show. Defeaningly loud, but damn. Good, dirty stuff, ragged and authentic (I know, I've mentioned that night before. We don't get out much).
Ever gone all teen-bop on one particular band member (and instantly understood why musicians command such vast quantities of cho-cha)? That's what this was. But it wasn't Matt-magnetism, as cool as he is. It was his Number Two, the other guy on guitar and vocals and one-third of El Torpedo: Jarrett Murphy (so google tells me).
Here's what I should have been thinking:
Wow. He's hot. I'd buy him breakfast.
Instead, here's what I was thinking:
Wow. He's hot. I'd buy him breakfast. What if that was Evan, twenty years from now? I'd be so proud. I wonder if Evan will be that cool? I wonder if he'll still be scruffy? Not smelly-pothead scruffy. Irresistable scruffy. I wonder if he'll look that good in levi's? Will girls lust for him? I'll think they damn well should. Ahh, of course they will. But he'll be a gentleman (nice, but not too nice… ladies, you know what I mean). Imagine what a rush that would be to see my son up there on stage. I'd totally embarrass him. I'd be in the front row NO! No. No, I wouldn't. I'd sneak in the back and he'd never know I was there, watching him pull all kinds of rock star cho-cha.
His mother must be proud?!?? <forehead-slap>
Every few months, it happens again. Like yesterday: a random guy on the street. Always a little unkempt or fleecy, but in the way that you know he'd smell yummy up-close. He's somebody's son, I'll think. And it will make me smile.
Am I flooded with chick-heat? No. Vicarious mama-pride.
Yep, it's official: I am a female eunuch. And just so gosh-darned antsy to see what kind of person he turns out to be. I've got assumptions already. It can't be helped.
('Motorsport' enthusiasts and Clay Aiken fans, please skip ahead one paragraph)
Will Evan be a public nuisance on a two-stroke dirtbike? Hell no. Will he have a mountain bike? Hell yes. Will he enjoy Top 40 Radio in his pimped-out Pontiac Sunfire? Or will he listen to obscure bands (perhaps 20-year vintage El Torpedo) while he tinkers on a beloved truck? The latter. Will he be a powerboater or a sailor? That one's got to be obvious. Will he be generic, or will he have spark? Spark. No doubt.
Yeah, I know. To imprint your own biases and expectations on your kids is to tempt disappointment. And it's silly, too. Like how I'd rather he play soccer than football. Why? Because. Most of the football guys I knew in high school were meatheads.
I'll let go when it's time. If you don't, you end up with kids who resent you (because they can plainly see that they didn't turn out the way you'd hoped).
I'll be filled-up with mama-pride no matter what. I'll watch him, thinking: he used to crawl under our duvet in the early-morning, order us to peel off his jammies, soft and naked, rattling off the names of all his trains and giggling, pointing at me, saying 'boo-beeees!' And I'll hardly believe it, that he is now the man who stands before me.
I'll just about burst.
Even if he does play football. <grimace>
sweetsalty kate
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Reader Comments (5)
Ev's only wish so far is that she turn out average-looking with a slightly big ass, so guys won't be pawing her in 13 yrs.
so before he was born, i wanted my son to be a ballet dancer. not because i especially like ballet...i'm awkward...but because i hoped i was trying to direct my fears in an alternate direction. now, though, i've looked at his sweet, stocky, beautiful little body and concluded that football is a lot more likely than ballet. and i'm okay with that. like you, i'll be cheering.
and feeding him a steady diet of slightly scruffy counter-culture models of masculinity until he tells me to shut up already. :)
Which raises an interesting thought. I don't know what's worse.. the potential pre-teen attitude and self-image issues of girls, or the potential pre-teen invincibility (who are we kidding.. pre-teen straight through university) of boys. Hmmmm.. I think I'll think about thaaat.. tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.
BTW I think your Evan's idea about the big ass is pure daddy-genius. :)
bon, you make me realize that I forgot to include dweeby, power-hungry jerks in my list! Consider it done. And then you wrapped the whole point of this post up so neatly: 'scruffy counter-culture models of masculinity'. THAT'S what I wanted to say, just right.
I know I have to fight against who I want them to be, and it's hard. It's hard to fight against the urge to imagine them as i want them-but the funny thing is, most of the time I don't even know who I want them to be.
I see girls and worry that will be mine someday. Other times, I see a mother and daughter, and I ache for that. We'll see.