Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself...

The experience I am about to relay actually took place five days ago...but it took me this long to process all of it to share with you. Well, that and to get my eyesight back. I was blind after what I saw last Friday evening.

As I have done in the past, I chaperoned another Middle School dance. I figure it is a great way to be in my daughters' environment and control the situation see what's up in their worlds. Now before I go any further, please know I have never been one of those parents who say, "What, my child? You must be mistaken, my children are angels," because #1) they are children; and #2) I was one of those kids pushing the limits to see how far I could go. Luckily, our daughters are more like their father than their mother and pretty much lay low with their friends without needing to make it all about me waves.

One of the first signs that I was in for a journey to Hell an interesting evening came when I saw some of the clothes these 11, 12, and 13 year old girls were wearing. Or should I say, not wearing. Forget the fact quite a few are ten times more endowed in the bosomal region than I will ever be, the majority of these well-endowed girls were wearing shirts sized for five year olds. There was nothing to the imagination, which is truly sad because someone needs to tell these girls that sexy and sleazy are two entirely different concepts, neither of which girls their age should be entertaining.

Suddenly a song began to play and everyone screamed and got ready to dance. Finally! However, the song was Low by flo rida. Not familiar? Here's a sample of the lyrics:

Hey shawty what I gotta do to get you home

My jeans filled with guap and they're ready for showing

Cadillacs laid back for the sexy grown

Patron on the rocks that'll make you moan

One stack (come on), two stacks (come on), three stacks (come on)

Now that's three grand

What you think I'm playing baby girl I'm the man

It was about to the lyric when he talks about having her legs on his shoulders that I went onto the dance floor to tell a girl to get up off of all fours as her "boyfriend" gyrated over her from the back. Again. The only thing missing here was the pole. Let me tell you, I was ready for a shower. On my way back, I had to break up a couple of bump and grinders getting busy on the other side of the juice machine. My stomach eyes are way too delicate for this debauchery.

But the highlight came towards the end of the evening when yours truly, a Hobbit in all my shortness and under-developed glory, broke up a fight. Between a boy and a girl. With hitting. Apparently the lesson is no longer we don't hit one another and especially boys don't hit girls. Apparently the new regime is you throw down a slap and you're a-gonna get slapped back. But don't worry...it's my understanding they were back to making out under the stairwell this morning, so I guess all is fair in love and war.

By the time the lights came up my head was spinning and I was seriously considering home-schooling my daughters until college.That said, I must give a shout-out to my friends whose sons and daughters were there (you know who you are) because their children behaved like the young ladies and gentlemen I know their parents have raised them to be. Sadly, our children were in the minority Friday evening. And no, I'm not just saying this because they are my friends, but I don't tend to surround myself with anything but the best, so there it is. 

But to the rest of the parents? You're not here to be your child's friend. I suggest you teach your sons how to treat young ladies and teach your daughters how to behave like one.