There’s another 4th grade sock hop and I’m going to miss it – you know the chaperone part. I like being an outside witness to all the tweening. After the disorganized first sock hop earlier in the year, I can only hope that Friday night’s dance might offer a tad bit more organized entertainment.
“So, Mom,” began Rosie, “I know you sort of think they are crazy but there’s another sock hop. [Long pause, bright blush] Sooooo…Can I go?”
Like I would deprive her of the girl shrieking, groupie encouraging, cultural indoctrination into heterosexual flirtation? Like I have that power?
Of course, Rosie and her friends have already planned the carpool and which parent will be driving (the one with the mega SUV and inconsistent parenting rules). I’ll be a good 4 hours away in another city feeling a tad guilty and yet relieved to be saving my ear drums. I mentioned the girls’ plan to my husband, who will be a single parent for five days.
“Do I have to go to it?” he asked, cringing.
I suggested it may be an interesting experience – bringing back those good old memories of childhood excitement and angst. For me it brings up an Indie movie we watched in our early dating years, The Doll House.” It was a story about a middle school girl ala Ugly Betty at 12 who was so awkward, naïve and unprotected, it was painful to see. I think every viewer left that theater feeling mortified, if not somewhat nauseous from the post traumatic trigger of preadolescent shame. We’ve all been there.
But still, sock hops in 4th grade seem to me an unnecessary push toward dating and mating rituals. Unfortunately, this time I won’t be able to learn about any innocent flirtations, double date scheming, and secret trinkets.
But I bet her little spy sister, Adele, will tell me.
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