Hey son, admit it: you like her

Hey son, feel that?

Weird, huh? I know what you’re thinking: It can’t be what you think it might be. NOBODY likes girls. Well, teenagers do, but that’s just gross. And as I recall, you intend to skip that whole phase (we’ll discuss the practicality of that later).

OK, so if it’s not about girls, then why did you get that feeling again when Danielle just walked by? This time I saw it. And trust me, I recognize it.

First of all, let me say with all the respect and total platonic-ish-ness (It’s my blog and I can make up words if I want to) that one would expect when referring to a 10-year old, she’s a cutie. Good on ya.

Here’s what’s happening to you:

You used to like girls back when they were just boys that people bought pink stuff for instead of blue stuff. Then you started to learn that they’re different than boys: missing some things and soon to grow other stuff. Yeah, that’s a bit creepy to me too, but you get used to it.

Then rumours started to surface on the playground about cooties and kissing, and there was all the weird baby-making stuff that you read about in those books I bought you. I know it’s all pretty gross, but at some point, you’ll learn to tolerate it. Really, really tolerate it.

Somewhere along the way, it became very clear that boys are supposed to hate girls. The idea of kissing one was akin to considering biting into a dog poop sandwich. Just as nobody wants to watch people eat dog poop, nobody wants to watch people kissing.  Naturally, then, you covered your eyes while we fast-forwarded through movie kisses.

But I caught you peering between your fingers during the kissing scenes in The Princess Bride last week. And then there was that look when Danielle walked by today.

So you’re wondering: if boys are supposed to hate girls, what’s wrong with you? Danielle walks by and the weirdness happens. You want to go follow her. When she was calling you a pig-faced dipwad at school today, you couldn’t have been happier. You called her one back because you want your friends to think you hate her with a passion.

Passion.

That’s what’s starting to happen. Not the grown-up gross kind of passion, but the kid kind of passion that bangs around in your gut every time Danielle walks by.

You see, you didn’t call her a pig-faced dipwad back just because you want your friends to think you hate her. You called her one back in an attempt to keep the conversation going as long as possible.

Before you start denying it, let me just say that I absolutely do not expect you to admit it to yourself, let alone your dad.  See, girls and lying pretty much go hand-in-hand.  I’m not saying they’re always lying, but I am saying you will. You have my genes, remember? Lying about girls is a long-standing tradition in our family.

At least the immediate family.

Well, me, really. It’s a long-standing tradition with me.

I’m pretty sure Gramps only knew two girls–his mom and mine–so I really don’t know how much lying he did.  I, on the other hand, knew hundreds of them. Maybe more. I was a total chick magnet. Couldn’t keep them off me.

OK, see what I did there? Big fat lie. (Not the part about Gramps—I think I pretty much nailed that one).

It starts right about now when you lie to yourself about how you feel. After all nobody else feels this way about girls, so you’d be some kind of freak if you did. But of course you don’t, right?

And so you’ll lie to your friends, as well.

Now the funny thing here is that all your friends are doing the same thing. It’s like politics: all the politicos are running around parroting the party line and don’t believe a word of it. Why are they doing this? Because they think all the other parrots believe in it. Well, they don’t. And your friends don’t actually hate girls either.

It’s good, though, because you’ll use your lying-about-girls skills for the rest of your life: First you’ll lie about not liking them; then you’ll lie to your friends about girls liking you; then you’ll lie about what you did with girls under the bleachers; then you’ll lie about how many you dated in college; then you’ll be tempted to lie to girls about how few you dated in college (bad idea, by the way).

Given that you’ve got my genes and I’m supposed to be helping you here, let me just say that you’re totally normal.   But don’t lie to yourself about it. Passion is a good thing. Just know that even though they’ll die before they admit it right now, your friends all feel the same way.

Oh, and one other thing. It’s OK to lie about girls, just don’t lie to them. They know. Trust me, they know.