Hopefully he won't become a serial killer.

Yesterday when I picked Paul up from school, he told me that he had been invited to join the new Femme Club. They had their first meeting yesterday. “What’s that?” I asked, “People who like the Violent Femmes?” “No!” he said with a sigh of exasperation, “It’s the new Feminist Club.” “Wow! That’s great,” I said with pride, “And they asked YOU to join - how come?” “They said I could the token boy-man,” he said flatly.

I was disappointed to hear Paul turned the girls down. I think he considered it for a minute, but I’m sure it was for all the wrong reasons. “I really thought I raised you better than this,” I griped at him over dinner. I want him to respect women and their concerns. I didn’t want him to turn into one of those men who roll their eyes and zone off into space every time a woman starts to speak. “Don’t be so provincial,” I said quoting Samantha from Sex and the City. He just continued to ignore me.

One of the best things about being a parent is getting to torture your kids. Sometimes Paul finally loses it and reminds me that HE’S the teenager and I am the parent and he’d appreciate if I’d just act my AGE!! Like recently, when he told me he had been asked to play bass in a band with three of his friends: Meghan, Tiffany, and Jennifer. I sat there for a few seconds letting the info sink in, then I said, “You’re going to be in a GIRL BAND!!?? BWAAHAHAHA!!”

Is it any wonder he passed up the opportunity to join the Femme Club?