"Boys..." -- First post, part 2...

I’ve told this story a few times, it always cracks up the people who know us, but I just wasn’t sure it would translate into “print” although I guess it must have done ok…

Thanks for the positive feedback -- looks like now I have to get back to work.

You'll never hear Paul Harvey tell this one, but...

And now... The Rest of The Story...

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So, as I pointed out in Part 1, I'd really (REALLY !!) hoped that a good case of wankus-interruptus would teach The Boy the necessary lesson.

As I opined when I left off, "Alas, this was not to be..."

On the following Sunday evening, BB and I went to take The Girls back to their mom's at the end of the weekend. His sister was off with their Dad and The Boy was (again) left at home, alone.

Dealing with The Ex was never pleasant, and my worry for The Girls, my heartbreak at having to leave them there... Sundays SUCKED around my house. It usually took me a couple of hours at home to get into a sociable mood, until then I just wanted to be alone.

We arrived at home and I collapsed on the couch, hoping to be able to escape from my thoughts, into some mindless TV. I reached for the remote, and RIGHT THERE -- right on the coffee table this time -- was another nudie-book.

“Oh, Jesus…” I thought. “Welcome HOME…"

"Might as well get this over with…” I sighed, snatched up the mag, and headed down the hall to The Boy's room.

I walked in without knocking, turned on the light and shut the door behind me before turning off his TV.

He wasn’t too happy at the intrusion, he tried to blink the bright-light out of his eyes, then saw what was in my hand and instantly kicked into defensive mode.

"Look, man... I'm sorry…"

"Sorry ain't really cutting it, Boy. Not this time. I tried -- G*d knows I tried, but..."

"Really, it's not going to happen again. I understand, I really don'..."

"Nope. Too late." I said. "We HAVE to do this now -- don't you see? YOU made this mess, damnit, and now I have no choice. I REALLY hope this conversation sucks as much for you as it does for me."

I paused to take a deep breath, gather my thoughts, and settle my nerves a bit before getting started. I really didn't have any speech prepared, but had a general idea of what lessons needed to be imparted... I was tired, and a bit angry, (not to mention more than a bit skeeved out by the whole thing), but... I'm a man, and men do what we have to do, so...

Here goes...

"First, I need to be sure that you know that what you're doing is perfectly normal and natural."

"I--AM--NOT!!" he shouted, highly indignant at the mere suggestion...

I stifled the urge to laugh, took another deep breath and said "Well... That pretty much proves that you ARE, especially since I didn't say exactly what, but...

"I'm NOT!!" he shouted again. "I know what you mean. That's DISGUSTING."

"Well... it can be, I suppose, in fact that's pretty much why I'm here. Let's start again…”.

(Deep breath)

“All boys, when they reach a certain age, discover... well... They begin to..."

"I TOLD YOU, *I* *AM* **NOT!!**" he yelled again, pounding his fist on his bed for effect.

"OK. Look... This conversation is going to take all night if we don't get past this..."

"But I'm NOT!!" he protested one more time

"OK, Look -- I'm willing to stipulate that you're the first young Knight in the history of The Realm who hasn't spent a majority of his free time polishing his lance, if that's what it takes for us to move past this..."

"But I'm NOT!!"

"**OK** -- I GET it -- YOU'RE NOT!! -- but IF YOU WERE..."

"But I'm NOT!!"

Steam-roller time... Any parent knows that point at which you stop arguing and just talk over them... This was it.

"...But IF YOU WERE, it would be perfectly natural. Heck, when I was your age I had like a 10, 12-times-a-day habit myself... It’s kind of a miracle I didn’t wear it out, really…"

Finally, I'd managed to shut him up. The horror on his face was ... well... PRICELESS.

“… what’s NOT natural is… well…” I’d been so focused on just getting past his denials, that I was about out of steam.

THINK FAST…

“…Ummmm…”

Again, I vividly recall seeing the horror on his face, and decided to use that for my advantage.

“Lemme put it THIS way…” I said. “…I need you to close your eyes and imagine something.

A peek at the boy (I suddenly realized I was talking to the wall, not looking at him) told me he wasn’t really playing along, but I needed to get this over with. I stood up, and paced around the room a bit while I was talking…

“… Imagine it’s like … a holiday weekend. The Girls are with their mom, you and your sister are off with your Dad…”

“… Mom and I sat on the deck and watched the sunset, had a few glasses of wine…

“I got a little Barry White playing on the stereo…”

(singing) “…’never gonna give you up, Baby…’ ” as I closed my eyes and danced a little bit, beginning to find my groove now…

“…ol’ Barry’s the MAN, by the way, I gotta tell you, dude – something about his voice just makes women get… Mmmm....”

(Pause to insert leering grin here…) Yup, he's with me. It's like a car-wreck - -he really doesn't want to look, but he can't help himself...

“…Sorry… like I was saying, we had some wine, one thing led to another…”

“…We made it into the kitchen, getting’ a bit carried away… I lifted her up and set her on the table…”

“…Things are getting all hot-n-heavy. Man – she’s laid back on the table

– right about where you usually sit, come to think of it –

... she’s got her legs throwed up over my shoulders and I’m (fists clenched at waist level as my hips thrust in vulgar manner) REALLY (thrust) GOING (thrust) to (thrust) TOWN (thrust) I (thrust) mean (thrust) I’m (thrust) really (thrust) slappin’…”

At this point, he looked sorta like a goldfish -- his chin was gulping up and down as he made little retching noises…

“STOOOOO—oooooooP!!” he yelled, cringing in disgust, hands flying up over his face in the classic defensive pose…

“Duude – that’s my MOM!!” – still retching…

For a moment I thought he was actually going to heave, then I realized my mission was accomplished!

“THERE!!” I yelled “That feeling RIGHT THERE!!”

“GRAB IT!! HOLD ON TO IT!! YEAH! THAT FEELING!!”

I’ve never been able to look at this picture without cracking up – even finding it to post right now has left me in stitches, as it TOTALLY captures the expression on The Boy’s face at that moment:


Yup – That’s it all right.

“Oh, G*D…” he croaked. “… WHYYY??” lapsing into stunned silence.

“Because THAT’S how the rest of us feel when we find your masturbation materials laying around all over the place.

Like I said, it’s perfectly natural, but what’s NOT natural is for you to force the rest of us to feel like you’re feeling right now.

We know you’re going to do it, but … well… NOONE wants to have to think about you, sprawled out on the sofa, being your own best friend…”

I actually paused for a second, I guess his earlier protestations had conditioned me to expect another round of “No I’m not/yes you are/no I’m…” but he just sat, stunned into silence.

“Look, “ I said “here’s the deal. Get yourself some paper towels, some hand sanitizer, -- be sure you wash your hands -- I mean … – I shouldn’t have to be afraid to touch the doorknobs in my own house, right?”

Still stunned, but he managed a nod.

“The next time I find your porno collection, I’m going to show you MINE. Well, I guess I should probably call it ‘ours’ since … well, … “ Again, I lapsed off into silence, letting it finish my thought for me…

The Boy let out a little groan of disgust and I decided I’d better not push my luck. He still looks like he might heave.

I HATE puke, so I’d better back off…

“Keep ‘em out of sight, OK?”

“HOW?” He cried... “Mom’s ALWAYS all up in my stuff.”

“’Your stuff’ has been all up OUT -- in the dang LIVING ROOM!…” I said,

“…but I know what you mean… USE YOUR HEAD, man! You’re a smart guy!! Tip your night-stand back…” (I did, showing him the space underneath) “…there’s room for a coupla phone books under there… Take your drawers out of the dresser…” I paused to pull one out “… there’s room to put 4 or 6 of them on either side of the slide!!

.. but for f***s sake, PLEASE stop leaving them laying around the HOUSE!!…”

He was beginning to recover by this point, he nodded weakly, letting me know he understood.

“… I’m trying like hell to be the cool Dad, here. My Dad would have just beat me senseless... I don't know what to do, but you really have to understand – if The Girls were to find one of these, and their mom found out about it, it could really mess up their lives in ways you just can’t understand right now…”

I've always tried to protect the kids -- all of them -- from the Court battles and all, but he was older, home all the time, and aware of some of the ugliness, some of the awful mess I’d been going through trying to do what was best for my kids. He really liked my Girls, and made a fantastic Big Brother to them, and I knew he at least heard that point as well.

“Gotcha…” he said.

“Good. I’ll talk to Mom – it’s about time you started doing your own laundry, especially since… Well… I’ll show you how, OK?”

He nodded again, still struggling with his horror…

I stood, and put my hand out for a shake. Just as he started to shake it, I suddenly made my “YUCK!” face and pulled my hand back quickly, nose still wrinkled for effect.

“Umm… OK” I said, as it dawned on The Boy why I’d had second thoughts about shaking his hand. I patted him on the shoulder instead.

I picked up the magazine, started to roll it up, then thought better of it. I wasn’t quite done yanking The Boy’s chain yet.

I paused for a moment, almost to the door, flipping through the magazine a bit until I found a slim brunette (BB is a slim brunette)…

“Niiice!!” I said, pointing at her and tossing the boy a wink as I headed for the door.

He made a yuck-face of his own…

I made a point of reaching for the doorknob, then pulling my hand back and carefully using the magazine to open the door without touching the knob, then slowly made my exit, singing “AAaannd I'i'i'mm... never gonna give you up, Bay-beeee” and dancing a little as I looked at the brunette a bit more.

I stopped in the hallway, still singing quietly and dancing just a little as I pulled the door shut, catching his eye just for a second as the door closed.

“I hate you” he whispered just as the door clicked shut, his throat still struggling a bit with the urge to gag, but the half-smile on his face belied his words...

I knew this was a story he’ll tell his friends some day, probably half-drunk, once he’d matured enough to get over the embarrassment. He’s never actually mentioned it in my presence, but I know I was right…

We've had some unpleasant times -- I was his step-dad, and much more old-school than he was used to, which made for some conflicts, but he's grown to be my Bud. He calls me when he needs advice... I'm damn proud of him.

Years later, we were all at dinner, celebrating his college graduation and Commissioning (he’s a Lt. in the Navy now) when Barry White came on the speakers. I couldn’t help smirking at him as ol’ Barry crooned “never gonna give you up, Bay-baaay”…

What surprised me was that all of his “Buds” looked at me -- all at once -- did a spit-take and joined him in cracking the heck up… Obviously they'd heard the story...

Of course, when they started, I lost it as well, and we all sat there laughing hysterically…

Mom looked around, puzzled, trying to figure out how she’d missed the joke as I, The Boy, and all his Buds just rolled – we laughed until the tears ran down our faces -- all of us -- while everyone else sort of looked at each other and shrugged, not sure what was so funny.

It was one of those times when you’d manage to get yourself together and stop laughing, then make the mistake of making eye-contact with someone else which would cause you to lose it again.

We ROLLED while Mom, the girls and the other parents exchanged glances, trying to figure out what was going on. ROLLED till I was almost crying, gasping for air.

We’d finally managed to get ourselves together when BB, apparently a bit miffed at being left out of the hilarity, looked at my oldest daughter, rolled her eyes and said

“Boys… “

Which just set us off again…

The Boy has become The Man, but he’ll always be The Boy in this house otherwise full of girls. Even the dog, both cats and the guinea pig are all female. I'm drowning in a frigging estrogen ocean around here, moreso now that The Girls have matured...

There’s a gazillion more great stories of our exploits, I’ll have to write some of them up I guess since this one seemed to go over so well…

The “Condom story” would have been better in response to LL’s post, but just wouldn’t have made as much sense without this one as history.

Thanks again for the positive feedback!!

DD