I recently quipped on Facebook that Tacy was slightly suspicious of an invitation issued through an intermediary:
It wasn’t until last week when she told me that kids in her grade were pairing off in anticipation of the school sock hop that I realized this wasn’t an isolated incident — a dare issued by one boy to another, an imitation of older brothers or sisters. This was a development that demanded I weigh in with an edict, unprepared as I might be.
“You can go to the sock hop with your friends, but you’re not going anywhere as part of a couple,” I told her. “Not this year, not next year, and not in sixth grade either. We’ll discuss it when you’re in middle school.”
My edict was somewhat inconsistent with my own experience; it was in fourth grade that I first “went with” a boy, though we never actually went anywhere. I didn’t even particularly like him, and the implications of pairing off filled me with terror. The fact that he liked me was flattering enough that I felt I ought to oblige his request to “go with” him.
Wrong lesson. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong.
Yes, it’s flattering to be liked, but it’s important to like someone back. As I told Tacy, her father and I wouldn’t have stayed married this long if we didn’t genuinely like each other.
The implications of pairing off — that is, physical contact — should fill a fourth grader with terror. Frankly, I wish they filled more teenagers with terror, at least in sufficient concentration to counter the deluge of hormones.
I explained to Tacy that it’s highly unlikely that any of these girls are particularly special to the boys who’ve asked them to go to the sock hop. Likewise, I doubt that any of the girls especially like their suitors. The boys asked the girls whom they thought would say yes, and they asked because someone — a friend, a sibling, a parent — led them to believe that they should. Or that there wasn’t any reason why they shouldn’t.
“What’s the big deal? It’s just a sock hop.” I can hear the objections to my no-dating edict. But that’s it: It’s not just a sock hop. It’s kids who are barely on the cusp of puberty coupling up months in advance of an elementary school function that’s supposed to be silly and fun.
Our kids have years of dating angst ahead of them; I’m in no hurry to hop on that roller coaster. I granted myself a three year reprieve, and I expect Tacy and I are equally relieved.
