Double your pleasure; Double your fun

Last night was the school Mommy-Son date night.

Two weeks ago, my little guy (aka. Captain Toothless), came running up to me with a wide grin and asked me to be his "date for this paper." I took a moment to translate what on earth he was talking about and finally realized that it was a PTA event -- the annual Mommy-Son event. I said of course and then like a yahoo actually waited for my older son to mention the event.

I'm glad I didn't hold my breath; I might have died.

My 9 3/4 year old (aka the Inconvenient Genius) didn't say a word. Not a peep. Okay, so my self esteem is still in tact. I mean, He had other things going on like TAKS benchmarks, etc. He'd get around to it.

So a week went by and Toothless checked in to make sure that we were still on for our "date." I assured him that we were and he sailed away. Reminded, I saddle along side Genius and asked him if he wanted to go.

He shrugged. "I guess, whatever. Is there food?"

Nice.

So the big day rolled around and the boys and I set off for the date night. Toothless was the perfect gentleman, solicitous of my step, even placing his little hand at the small of my back as I crossed the street. Genius walked ahead as though he wasn't really with us, looking left and right and presumably scanning the area for friends.

We schlepped our sleeping bags into the school cafeteria, dropped them on the floor (yes, I fought my germaphobe issues marvelously, thanks) and then went to explore the rest of the offerings.

Across the hall was a gymnasiusm crock full of bounce houses. When he saw it, Toothless hauled off screaming like a psycho leaving me standing in his dust beside Genius.

"Are you good, mom? I'd like to go play, too, but I don't want to just leave you."

My heart melted. That's my boy. I felt warm and fuzzy, bestowing a graceful smile and nodding that it was fine, go ahead.

"Sweet."

A single word and he was gone with super speed, pushing and shoving his friends in a shockingly rowdy exchange in a nearby bounce house of terror.

There I sat, alone on date night, cold with John Travolta singing "Stranded at the Drive-In" in my head and unsure of just what I felt. Dissed? Yes. Kicked to the proverbial curb? Yes. But also a little touched at the different forms of love both boys bestowed -- even though it was fleeting.

I spent the next hour watching the brown, beige and black streaks that were my sons little biracial faces dart from one room of hysterical giddiness to the next until finally it was movie time.

They plopped down on the sleeping bags, exhausted, and looked up at me with those adorable little faces. I was touched, misty, a little overcome. Then they opened their mouths.

"Mom," Toothless spoke first as is his custom these days.

"Mmmm?" I purred, caught up in sentimentality. Surely he'd be saying something kind and sweet and just perfect.

"Is there food? I'm starving!"

Bam! Reality hit me right in the face. Ah yes, maid mode. I know it well. It usually comes hand in hand with serving wench responsibilities. The next ten minutes found me shuffling back and forth to concessions to get hot dogs, nachos, soda, and candy -- all at a frantic pace because they were "still hungry" and perhaps "going to die." Neither lifted a finger to help; neither even considered it.

I was a one-woman sighing machine.

Then the darkness came and the movie began to play. Genius cast a furtive glance around the room and noticed a few boys sitting behind me.

"You comfortable, mom? They aren't too close are they?"

"I'm fine."

"Can you see?"

"Yep. I'm good."

"kay" he said, and with that turned toward the screen and I was invisible once again.

The movie passed in silence, with me touching Genius' back lightly (Toothless was sitting too far away) and him leaning toward me slightly but not offering so much as a glance my way.

When the evening ended. Genius lagged behind as Toothless scurried to escort me outside, once again the consumate gentleman. I mentioned that we might want to huddle together because I was very cold. Genius just said, "That's okay, I'm good" and walked ahead until we reached the car.

Inside, with excitement still illuminating his little 6 7/8 year old eyes, Toothless thanked me for "an awesome time." Genius nodded almost imperceptably.

When we got home, Toothless' excitement had calmed to exhaustion. He collapsed minutes after his bath. I went upstairs to work for a while.

I was near wrapping things up when the floor creaked behind me and I caught Genuis shuffling my way. He hugged me with his alarming strength and said simply, "I love you, mom. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for everything."

Then he kissed me on the forehead and shuffled back to his PSP and to his ear plugs in the cave of his room.

I just sat their feeling pretty lucky and certain that this was one of my best dates ever.