Hairy Palms & Choking the Chicken

When my baby boy was 13, he bought a doorknob set for his bedroom door. He was always a boy who would learn to do anything, usually by tearing it apart first. He knows his way around the tool cabinet. Just like his daddy.

We bought this older house back when my boy was 9. It didn’t matter to him then that the doorknob didn’t have a lock.

During this time I was a police officer. I was the only female on Charlie shift. So this afternoon, I go in and at the end of the shift we all go to the city yard to fill up our tanks for the next shift coming on. Generally we all stand around and shoot the shit while the tanks are filling then we’d stand around and the smokers would smoke and the chewers would spit before hitting the road again.

So all these guys and me, we’re standing around shooting the shit and telling war stories and I tell them how my 13 year old son had changed out his doorknob to his bedroom door all by himself. I mean I am proud of this kid. Then I see looks pass between the guys. Then one guy begins giggling, then another, then they’re all laughing and guffawing.

I am totally confused at this point and I ask, “What the hell is so funny about that?” Turtle (as we called him – long story) pipes up and says do you really not understand why he put a lock on his door? Still confused (and no I am not blonde) I say “maybe to keep me from rambling while he’s at school?” Then they all burst out laughing and slapping one another on the back.

Well shit, I guess I done got myself right smack into the middle of some secret, covert covenant of the MAN CLUB. “What are ya’ll talking about you asswipes”, I asked. My closest bud in the group, Travis, walks over to me and right in my faces says “Think about it…he is 13, and he wants to be in his room with the door locked.”

WTF???? You mean you think he…he is…does…..”that”?????? No, my son is just a baby. No way he’s in there wanking off behind that locked door. Uproarious laughter once again drowns out the sound of our vehicles engines.

I guess that’s when I was thankful for the dark, so they couldn’t make fun of all the many shades of red I KNOW I turned.

My baby…..the child I breastfed…the one I rocked to sleep for 4 years. My baby who would wait until we were asleep to come in and crawl very quietly into our bed to sleep. This sweet, sweet boy who still kisses his mama good-night as long as no one else is around, is choking the ole chicken behind locked doors. Well horseshit. My innocence has been lost forever. I hope he knows all about the hairy palms.