Solo Mission

A lot about childhood in measured in milestones. Today, Sammy and I are conquering a new one: the solo playdate. Some mothers are old hat at this sort of thing by this time, but for some reason, I’ve always been involved in these excursions to this point, mostly because the vast majority of his friend-related activities have either been in public places that require parental attendance or at my friend’s house and it’s as much a playdate for us as it is for our kids. So when I got the e-mail inviting Sammy over this afternoon, it was a first. I was thrilled for Sammy, that he was wanted for some fun and frivolity.

I am terrified.

Sure, my boy is sweet, knows how to say please and thank you (most of the time) and is usually kind and sharing. But might my little Jekyll go all crazy Hyde without my hairy eyeball around? Would he throw a whiny fit if he doesn’t care for the offered snack? Will the boys fight over some random toy? Man, I really need to get a tiny nanny cam I can attach to his collar so I can snoop in situations like this. Maybe one that has a mild taser I can trigger if he gets out of line.

Chances are he’ll behave and when I pick him up, he won’t be pushed out of the door with a quick shove and a loud slam. This is really my issue, my desire to be liked and recognized as successful, in this case, as a parent. I just want to leave these people with the thought that my son is a good kind, and aren’t I doing a good job raising him. OK, I’d settle for them not thinking they’ve just met a future serial killer or panhandler.

Just in case, I’m planning my reciprocal playdate in advance. How soon do I need to book the clown?