Sixth Grade. Ugh.

For the better part of the school year, Some Boy has had a crush on my Twin B. I don’t like  it, but it is sixth grade, the hormones are starting to emerge, it happens. And thankfully, she’s just not that into him. She’s not into any boys yet. (Yay, us!)

It started with a rumor that he “like liked” her. She kind of laughed it off and said, “He’s nice, though.”

(Note the though, though.)

She lent him her copy of Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I told her that might send the wrong message, that she liked him back, but whatever.  It really didn’t faze her in the least that he liked her. She was just being her usual nice self.

I marveled at that, because when I was in sixth grade and a boy liked me, I hated it. Hated it. It made me all uncomfortable, I did everything I could to avoid him and I just wanted it to go away and leave me to my horse models and Nancy Drew books. But she just treated him like she’d treat anybody else.

At first, it was cute hearing the stories of how he’d stumble and clatter over a bunch of desks just to score the seat next to her. Or how the rumors swirled the day before a field trip that he was going to sit by her on the bus. (He didn’t, thanks to her group of protective friends, who surrounded her that day so he couldn’t.) Or how his friends would tell her that he wants to tell her he loves her. (Did you get that? I know that was a lot of pronouns to digest.)

It was even kind of cute when Twin A (sister of the crushee) coincidentally got put into a group with Some Boy’s sister at her gymnastics competition. Throughout the course of the day, they figured out who each other was. “My brother is in love with your sister and my parents tease him about it all the time,” Some Boy’s sister said. On the way home from the meet, we learned that Twin B was the object of much discussion at their dinner table. That was kind of funny.

But yesterday, cute and funny turned to annoying and kind of creepy.

Apparently, Some Boy told one of Twin B’s friends this about her:

“I can’t wait until she has her growth spurt.”

In the words of kids today:

O.

M.

G.

And in the words of ME today: ”Listen, Prepubescence, get your eyes off my daughter’s chest! There’s nothin’ to see here, folks.” Not yet, anyway.

“By growth spurt, I hope he means my height…but I doubt that,” said Twin B, now wise to the world and the ways of perverted prepubescent sixth-grade boys.

Yeah, I doubt too that it’s her vertical stature he’s interested in. But I have to say, Some Boy does have good taste. She is lovely. And sweet. And innocent. And I plan on her staying that way for a long, long time, “growth spurt” or not.

I just picture him, sitting there staring at her, waiting for her to “develop.” (Insert annoying air quotes here.)

Eeewwww. Gross. Disturbing.

And completely normal for this age.

Unfortunately.

I’m so glad sixth grade is over in about a week.

Oh, wait. No I’m not. I heard seventh grade is even worse.

Post post script:

When I picked the girls up from school today, the first thing I heard when they got into the car was that Some Boy has now told someone that Twin B  had “sexy eyes.”

Ugh.

Well, at least his eyes are traveling upward. It’ll give him something to look at while he waits for the “growth spurt.”

Ugh.

Another post post script:

I kind of dreaded telling the husband/father about this little incident. So I chickened out and told him to read my blog tonight. He did, and while normally I hear him laughing, tonight I heard no laughter. Instead, I heard a low rumble that sounded something like this:

“Oh, this boy’s gotta go. He’s gotta gooooooo.”

I’m afraid this is only the beginning.