A generation ago, when a boy imitated his male elders and expressed appreciation of the female form and face – regardless of how awkward, inept or just plain crude that expression might have been – it was treated as a “boys will be boys” moment. We were not suspended, but we were “talked to” by someone in authority (usually the grizzled old assistant principal) who told us it was generally understood among good men that such comments were not made within hearing of female ears. It was the beginning of our transformation into men and, it was hoped, into gentlemen.
Nowadays, kids are suspended from school for it. That’s a damn shame.
Don’t be so offended, HazelNut, the kid was just trying to act like a grown-up. A classless, crude and complete jerk of a grown-up, to be sure, but he’s just a kid.
I never wished the kid ill, did I? I wasn’t so much offended as disconcerted. You’re acting like I made a big deal out of it. I didn’t. I just walked away in a daze, then later laughed over it with my friends. And shared the amusing anecdote on a message board.
I did a show for Students for a year at Second City. After every show, we would have a question-and-answer period. Invariably, if the students were between Grades 4-9, a boy or two would raise their hand and ask, “What’s your phone number?” or “Are you single?”
I guess I can’t complain, at least they raised their hand.
I misread your really strong language in the OP as indicating that you were pretty upset by the incident. Nothing in your OP gave me any indication you thought it was amusing, at the time or later. I honestly thought you were deeply offended by the incident.
Um, the whole thing about being traumatized… that was a joke. Maybe I should have used more smilie faces. And I curse more when I’m light-hearted than when I’m being serious. I suppose that might be considered weird. Sorry for the misunderstanding.
If the kid had been 5, it would have been less disconcerting at the time. My response would have been “awwww” rather than " :eek: " if you know what I mean.
All these compliements are bewildering. I feel like an attention whore now. Not that I’m complaining.
I just read The Constant Princess, Philippa Gregory’s book about Katherine of Aragon, on the flight back from Rosh Hashanah at my in-laws’. This thread is reminding me of the book.
Do let us know if you’re planning to marry him, tell him you’re a virgin, and change the religious map of the world for hundreds of years afterward, OK?
This all reminds me of an incident that happened when I was perhaps ten or eleven years old. I’m guessing at my age at the time; I recall being mocked by my fellow campers for wearing my Superman pajamas on a camping trip, and I think I had stopped wearing pajamas by junior high school. I was attending a church kid’s camp type of thing. One of the counselors (I think she was a counselor anyway) was a fairly pretty girl, perhaps of high school age.
The camp only lasted for two or three days, but it was long enough for me to develop something of a crush on the pretty, older girl who had made the effort to befriend me and be nice to me when most kids my own age weren’t very nice to me.
When the camp was over, we were both on the same bus going home. She sat beside another girl her age, and I chose the seat directly behind her. Not long after our trip home had gotten underway, I must have decided that it would be nice to give this girl a hug. So I leaned forward and put my arms around her from behind, although with the seat in the way, it was more of an over-the-shoulders attempt.
Well. Remember that I was 10 or 11, so most of my knowledge about girls was limited to 10- or 11-year-old girls (I didn’t have older sisters). As a result, my little brain completely failed to take breasts into account as I draped my arms over this high school girl’s shoulders. Yup. I got myself a nice double handful
As soon as what I had done registered on my brain, I immediately let go and sat back in my seat, and I probably looked properly mortified.
I suppose that today I would have been in all sorts of hot water. The girl in question never turned around or said anything to me, but her friend did turn her head to look back at me. I guess she saw the look on my face, because I heard her whisper, “I don’t think he did it on purpose.”
Not that I’m complaining.