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“from the bus to ice cream” a re-post

August 23, 2009

[originally posted on september 26, 2007]

Looking out the window down the long driveway I see the Big Yellow School Bus. Off steps the most adorable, almost, 11 year old boy. He looks both ways, crosses the busy street and begins the long hike with heavy back-pack in tow up the steep drive-way. On his journey he stops to pet the horses who have wandered over in hopes the little guy has a carrot for them. Slowly, he backs away, when I realize he hasn’t lifted his little head since he stepped off the bus. With his precious face staring at the ground, hands in pockets, kicking rocks, he looks up for a moment and pauses. It then becomes clear to me – his heart is broken.

I go to the door to greet him as he walks in. He is not cheerful. He is not smiling. He is kind – but he is tender, he is fragile. I hug him tightly and ask, “How are you little guy?” “Fine“, he says and starts to walk away. “Are you sure?” I respond. “Well…well…Mom, I’m never gonna see her again.” I see the tears begin to build and the muscles in his face tighten to prevent any of them from falling down his cheeks. “You wanna talk about it Kota?” I ask. “I guess so.

Sitting on his bed I pray, to myself, for the right words, if any, to say. His eyes still brimming with the tears he has fought so hard to contain “What happened today Kota?” One tear finds its way out and falls onto the pillow he’s squeezing tightly onto. He softly and slowly responds, “She doesn’t wanta sit with me on the bus Mom. That is the only time I can see her until we both get into Jr. High. I’m never gonna see her again.” He finally looks up to say, “It hurts Mom.” I had no words, just open arms, to which he fell hard into letting the tears fall freely from his brave little eyes.

As I hold my little boy my mind starts to drift back to my first love – then quickly to my first broken heart – when something steals my attention. What is that stench, I wonder to myself, while son sobs on shoulder. It’s gonna be alright little guy, I say, wiping the tears from his grief-stricken little face. Whoa, what in the world is that smell, I ask myself again. He wraps his arms around my neck and…OH MY WORD! it is my heart broken prepubescent little boy! Flashing back 3 minutes I hear him in my head say, “She doesn’t wanta sit with me on the bus Mom“. Of course! Who would?

Being the quick thinker I am, I jump up and say, “Hey, ya wanna go to Sonic? Take a ride for a bit“Okay…” We quickly dry the tears, gather all composure and head for the door. Being the young gentlemen he is, he opens the door and holds it for me to which I immediately respond by asking, “Who wouldn’t want to sit by such a nice guy?“….”OH, and honey, before we go you wanna run and put some deodorant on?” “Sure mom!

Puberty, hormones and broken hearts.

Do you remember those days?

Do you remember your first broken heart?

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6 Comments leave one →
  1. August 23, 2009 9:56 pm

    i remember my LAST one more than i care too.

    And the one before that.
    And the one before that.
    And the one before that.

    And the one before that (that i married 26 years ago).

    i’m rather hoping the One i’m giving my heart to currently will not let me give myself cause to break it (what is left of it) into more broken pieces. Maybe i have finally learned something valuable form the ‘failures’?

    i doubt ‘Kota will be fully ready to grasp the concept just yet but science has shown that our noses are ‘sensitised’ to the hormonal ‘smell’ of members of the opposite sex so that those humans who provide the most varied gene combinations to our own smell the ‘nicest’, while those with the most similar gene pool to our own smell the WORST – Something you as Kota’s mum have demonstrated perfectly. His genes are half yours and you made it very clear what his natural odour made you feel.

    This is the way God designed us so that we would not be tempted to marry people who are from our own ‘family’ and so make a human population succeptible to hereditary ‘dead ends’, but would provide a strong robust and DIVERSE gene selection within small communities.

    The fact that Kota’s eyesight was not related to his ‘loves’ sense of smell is one of the facts of life that cause much of the misery in this life.

    ‘His’ girl may not have been related to him, but it may just be that she shared a significant number of common genes so as to be turned off his hormones – something i am sure she would never have been aware of, Nor Kota, nor you – until today!

    By the way – one of the scientific ‘tests’ that proved this ‘theory’ was done with six very attractive men and women and the T-shirts the men wore while sweating. The t-shirts were rated by the women from most pleasant to least pleasant odour and the most pleasant smells came from the men with the most ‘opposite’ genes to the women – not all odours wee equally pleasant or unpleasant.

    One woman’s ‘pong’ can be another woman’s ‘yum’.

    i hope Kota finds someone who fits his ‘vision’ and who is as opposed to him genetically as possible! 😉

    in general it seems when it comes to members of the opposite sex, women are more sensitive to their own noses while guys can often block their nasal input if their eyes are overly stimulated! 😉

    It’s not a 100% reliable generalisation i hasten to add, but often good enough. 🙂

    <B

  2. August 23, 2009 10:07 pm

    OOPS!:oops:

    ‘odours wee equally’ above should read: odours WERE equally…

    smell ya later.

    <B

  3. August 24, 2009 10:53 am

    that just makes me want to scoop him up and punch that girl in the face.

    just sayin’…

  4. August 25, 2009 6:25 pm

    First can I just say I love your narrating. I felt like I was actually there, and the tear escaping his eye & falling on the pillow.. great detail!

    But I myself am still going through that as I’m not out of puberty yet, oh joy. Poor him though. Many other people go through that though but that was a really good post & I hope he does see her again this time with deodorant on 🙂

  5. August 26, 2009 7:12 am

    Oh yeah I remember my last heartbreak….. it was quite recently…. but God has done a major restoration tho…. and thank God it never needed underarm scents…. lol

    Good narration! Lovely story….

  6. August 27, 2009 3:42 pm

    I remember this post. 😀

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