It Must Be Hard to Be an Almost 14 Year-Old Boy

Yesterday Herman and I went out on a little mini-date to Wendy's ... mostly to decompress after a harrowing afternoon hosting a birthday party for Hyrum. Actually it went pretty well, but I am not made to be one of those supermoms who plan amazing parties for her kids. Birthday parties involve all of the things that I am terrible doing ... you know, planning fun games, creating fabulous decorations ... talking to people. So our poor kids do not get the chance to have birthday parties very often. This year Herman was feeling festive, however, so he allowed Hyrum to invite a few friends over for the afternoon. And we survived.

But anyway, after setting the kids up with an amazing dinner of spaghetti, Herman and I headed out on the town for a grand adventure to the local Wendy's. And we decided to let Spencer tag along for all of the excitement. Spencer is in eighth grade this year, and he is really starting to come into his own personality. What originally was a lot of spastic tendencies (I would label it as squirrellinous) has turned into a sharp sense of wit and humor. I sure wonder how he is going to end up eventually. Herman always explains that he was exactly the same way as a youth. Oh my! I'm not sure if I could handle two Hermans in the house at one time. They're going to have to stagger their Herman personas for me I think.

Well, last night Spencer's wit was on full strength. It manifest itself right off the bat when he walked into the house after a youth temple trip to St. Louis. As he met me in the kitchen he said, "Before you say anything, Mom, just know that I was only following the direct counsel of my bishop." I looked up and gasped as I saw his arms completely scratched up. He had a fat lip and scratches all over his face as well. "WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED TO YOU??????" I yelled. I wish I could have filmed Spencer as he explained things to me because he has this thing he does with his tongue when he is trying hard not to burst out laughing while he explains things, so you'll just have to imagine him pausing every few seconds to push his tongue into his cheek before continuing. "Well," he said, "Peter grabbed my glasses, and when I told the bishop about it, he just told us to handle it on our own. ... So I did." Now this situation sounds much worse than it really was. You just have to know Bishop Skinner, Spencer, and Peter to know that it ended up being all in good fun. I haven't seen Peter yet, though, so I don't know who got the worst of it, but I will say that Peter sure has some nails on him apparently. But Spencer did get his glasses, so the story had a happy ending, right? 

Anyway, last night as we ate our not-so-nutritious fare from Wendy's Herman and I had some quality one-on-one time with Spencer. At one point in the conversation Herman was explaining how much Spencer is growing up. He sure has hit a growth spurt, starting out the school year shorter than me, but now at least three inches taller. Herman then explained to me that he can see the beginnings of a mustache growing on Spencer's upper lip. Spencer looked like he could burst with pride as he gently stroked his upper lip over and over. Well, I couldn't see it at all. Not a hair. So I said, "I don't see anything. My mustache is thicker than yours." And then Spencer yells, "I KNOW!" Ohhhhhhhhhh. Don't say that Spencer. You should never agree with a girl when she says that. I've already got a horrible complex about my upper lip thanks to another memorable and horrible high school experience. I was student body president (why, I will never understand), and I had to conduct the electoral speeches for the upcoming senior class one day. As I prepared to open the assembly I noticed two junior boys on the front row stroking their upper lips and laughing as they watched me. Devastating. I will never forget their names now. I have the hardest time remembering the names of people who I admired in my youth, but the names of those who were mean to me are tattooed in my conscience forever. So unfair. Well, I survived that horrible experience just fine, but I do still have a neuroses about my facial hair. But I guess lots of ladies do, don't we?

Well, anyway, after telling Spencer that he shouldn't say that to a girl EVER, he moaned, "But Mom, it is so unfair that girls get mustaches way before boys. So unfair." I would have to agree with that statement, and I'm sure that there are many girls who would agree as well. But while I think of it with embarrassment, Spencer was trying to give a compliment. I think. In a weird junior high boy sort of way. I admit it. I didn't understand boys when I was in junior high, and I don't understand them now.

Obviously Spencer has a long way to go before he is going to be wowing the ladies with his compliments. Sometimes I can't even fathom him wooing anyone at all. He's just so goofy. But then I hear Herman's tales of his junior high days I see that there is hope for boys like Spencer ... even if I can totally beat him in a mustache growing contest.