Turns out there is a 10th level

Just when I thought I’d been as humiliated as I could possibly be…

It got worse. 

Much worse. 

 

Mom need to talk.

 
After dinner little bits in the bath and big bit has escaped to avoid cleaning up the kitchen. Big man sits down. I don’t think twice thinking he’s just grabbing a 5th piece of pizza. 

“Uh mom. We need to talk,” his crackling voice is deep. Deeper than normal. Serious. That got my attention. 

“Okay,” I meet his eyes which are staring into mine. He looks serious. He sounds serious. I feel nauseous. “Let’s talk.”

“I was going to the bathroom this morning…” I steel myself. This is going one of two ways and both of them aren’t good. I try and make my face bland and calm despite my racing heart. I must not have succeeded because he immediately gets big eyed and starts waving his hands in front of his face as if warding off whatever he thought I was thinking. “No. No. No,” then he got back to his topic,”I wasn’t being nosy. I swear. I was going to the bathroom and uh….um….”

“….and…” I encourage.

“This is hard,” he looks nervous which makes me nervous. “Uh….”

For the love of god man spit it out! I want to shout. But I don’t. I wait.

“Okay. Like. Um. I wasn’t like being nosy or anything but like your phone was like blowing up and it was weird ’cause it’s like early and so…” Thank goodness he took a breath. “Mom. I saw someone wink at you. Which was weird. And then I saw someone liked you which was weird…I mean not weird that someone likes you. You are likable– but weird cause…oh man this is weird. Mom, are you on match.com?”

And there my friends is the 10th level of hell. Forget the humiliation of not being “liked”. That’s nothing compared to having to explain to your 15 year old son that you are on a dating site. But it gets worse…

Dude tears up. Real tears.

“I am just worried. Worried about you mom,” he pinches the bridge if his nose to try and fight back the tears. I sit still and wait. “After all you’ve been through…I mean it was so much mom. And you were so hurt. I am just worried. Man-I knew this would happen,” he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “I am just worried. It’s my job go take care of you girls now and I just worry…I mean…”

My heart swells. “What are you worried about?” I want to get to the bottom of what he’s really worried about. 

“You getting hurt again.”

My sweet, sweet, protective boy…I mean little man. “Sweetie. I am not on there to fall in love. I do miss adult company and thought maybe this would be a way to meet….I don’t know…I miss an occasional beer or coversation…I am not going to meet random strangers or anything…I don’t even think I am dating material. I might not even date. I don’t even know it I want to date. I just thought if I did ever want to date that this might be a good way to…uh…maybe…I don’t know…see what’s out there???” Now it was my turn to squirm. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Mom that one guy looked creepy!”

“Dude-it’s a train wreck. I am telling you—There are some odd ducks out there. I blogged about it-it’s so bad,” I reach for my phone. “Did you say someone winked at me?” I pretend to frantically search my phone. He laughs. 

“You were getting all kind of action this morning. Go girl,” the tears are gone and my sweet fellas 1/2 grin is back. “I was just checking on you mom.”

“I was going to tell you about this but no one liked me so I didn’t think there was anything to tell you…”

“Well you’ve got action now!” He laughs. He’s back to being lighthearted but he’s still sitting at that table so I know there is still something on his mind.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” I assure him. I push the phone in his direction. He makes tentative move towards it. He then ask if he can see the pictures I posted. I show him. He seems relieved to see he’s in 2 of them. “You guys are my life. You are enough,” I assure him. “I am not looking to change that. I am just trying to see if there is someone out there that maybe wants to hang out everyonce in awhile.” He nods. He ask to see the profiles if my “likes”. I show him. He’s got a few choice comments to make. Some that I agree with. I show him the winker. I let him look and click away. After a few minutes he pushes  the phone back to me. 

While I had him captive I went on to explain the movie I had seen recently where the man told the woman struggling with letting go of her son, ‘I just wanted her to have her own life.’ I explained that I didn’t want to stop him from having one because he was worried that I didn’t have one.

Evidently that was enough because he finally got up from the table. I sat there, wrung out like a dishrag. “You do see the irony in this,right?” I asked. “YOU grilling ME over something you  saw on MY phone.” He laughed. 

“Pretty awkward, huh, I should have known something was up with that new hair do,” I argue that the hair color was all about the Gray and had nothing to do with my profile. He was about to retort when my phone buzzed. “Better get that…might be your next man.” I admonished him while he laughed. And laughed. And laughed. 

Now that he is relived I am going to be the butt of many a joke. 

And that is a whole ‘nother level of hell-having your son make quips about comparing dating notes or joking about double dates or teasing you about “any action”. Humiliating in a while other level I tell you. 

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