Those of us Moms Who Blog And Also Have Teenagers don’t do a lot of writing about our teens. Partly because they’re old enough to object, and my son kinda likes my blog and I have no desire to change that on the off chance there’s something to write about. Because most of the time? They don’t provide the best writing material. They’re kinda boring. And not very cute.
I mean – let’s face it. Who wants to hear about my teenage son’s t-shirt and jeans when I could be writing about Nikki’s bold fashion choices. Which is more entertaining: E’s thoughts on putting a year between taking Latin I and Latin II or Wes’s reaction to having the garbage man honk at him? The teenagers, while interesting? (Sometimes.) Are rarely cute and entertaining.
But today – I’m writing about the most fantastically cute and PLEASE DON’T EVER LET ME FORGET THIS moment that E had on Friday. He may kill me for writing about it; but I may also not care. Who knows.
He was at callbacks for Beauty and the Beast late Friday. Since he was just desperately hoping to be part of the ensemble like last year, this was a good thing. However, since his Mom is old and wakes up at 4am most mornings, this was a bad thing. A little after 10pm I decided to get in the car and drive to the school and just sleep there while waiting on E to finish. I used this technique often during Seussical rehearsals – it allows me to get a little sleep but doesn’t risk E not being able to wake me up when things are done and he calls.
I’m on my way there when he calls on my cell. The conversation went something like this:
Him: In squeaky excitable whisper voice OH MY GOD. GUESS WHAT? I GOT A REAL PART!
Me: in squeaky excitable SCREAMING voice WHAT? HUH?
Him: Me. I got a part. With lines. And my own parts in a song. ME. I DID IT.
Me: WHAT? WHAT? No.
Me: NO. WAY?!
Me: Wait. Tell me again. WHAT? YOU GOT A PART? ARE YOU SERIOUS?
Him: YES!!!!!!!!!! The creepy asylum guy – Monsieur D’Arque – who Gaston bribes to take Belle’s Dad. He has a song he sings with Gaston in the musical. He’s super creepy. AND I GOT THAT PART.
Me: WHHHHAAAAATTTTT? WHAT? No. What? WHAT? NO!
Him: Yes! I SWEAR.
Me: OH MY GOD. Okay. I’m on my way already. Like one minute away. I’m CRYING I’m so happy for you!
Seriously. It’s not verbatim? But that’s about it. I was unable to say anything coherent or remotely intelligent because I was so excited and in shock. Not because he’s not good – he is – but there are a LOT of good guys in the program. But I was also incoherent because I’ve never – IN THE 15 YEARS I’VE KNOWN HIM – heard him that excited about anything. I mean – his voice? The amount of joy coming through the phone? Was intoxicating. I was so happy for him in that moment I could have conquered the world. I think I’ve forgotten how to be that happy because I’ve had trouble erasing The Sad in my life since Dad died. But in that moment? And the entire squealing car ride home when I made him tell me EVERY THING THAT HAPPENED – He and I were both truly happy.
And I never, in one million years, want to forget it. First steps? First words? First hugs and kisses? All memorable and joyful. But after 15 years of parenting this wonderful kid? That moment. That voice filled with such excitement and glee and shock and happiness – that is the moment I will choose to hold onto if anyone ever threatens to take the rest away. I’ll give them up. All of them, if I have to. All of the firsts, All of the sweet, all of the cute – just for that one phone call. I will never give that up and have already replayed it in my head 100 million times since Friday because – well? It just makes my heart soar.