Romeo, Romeo, Where Art Thou Ankle Tracking Device?


My middle son, Harrison is a lady's man with an ability to draw the opposite sex to him in almost any setting. When we lived in Chicago, I took the boys to see a movie. As we were walking into the theater, a little girl and her mother were walking out. Harrison hardly made eye contact with her; still, she got right up in front of him and introduced herself. Being single at the time, I was impressed (and even a little jealous). "Heeeey, Big Guy. She was cute." Without looking up, Harrison shot back, "Dad, don't even ask." His voice sounded almost exasperated, as if this sort of thing happened all the time... and it was getting really old. But this charming smile and feigned shyness of his that's melted more hearts than John Mayer and Nicolas Sparks combined, has created a few issues too.

Over the Christmas holiday, his step-sisters got into a fight after comparing notes and realizing Harrison had kissed them both. And his older brother Noah (who takes after his father's awkward tendencies in this area) often complains about how the girls in his own class flock to Harrison even though there's a three-year age spread. For his part, Harrison has indicated how much he prefers these more mature "cougar cubs." I guess it's because 5th grade girls know what they want out of life or something.

Whatever the case, his mother and I agree-half jokingly, half seriously-that we will be having "the talk" with Harrison well before his siblings. And even though we both are of the mindset to discourage the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing for all the kids until they reach an age where they are old enough to actually date, this still fails to curb Harrison's undying affections.

This should provide some context for a conversation Harrison and I had a couple nights ago.

Me: Hey, Bud. How are you?

Harrison: Dad, I can't talk long. This has gotta be quick.

Me: Why? What's the deal?

Harrison: I gotta call my girlfriend.

It's something like 8:30PM where he's at, so I'm wondering what's going on.

Me: Your girlfriend? Which one?

Harrison: DAD! You know!

Oh yes. This would be Jill (not actual name), the one where I was instructed to go into a closet where no one could hear Harrison tell me over the phone that he loved her.

Me: Right. Jill. I was just messin' with ya.

Harrison: Her dad's mad at me.

Me: What? Why?

Harrison: Because he told me not to call her anymore.

I'm quite aware of the phone rules where he lives and picking up a phone and calling girls at a whim, especially at his age, is sanctioned at a frequency equal to James Bond saying no to a beautiful woman. Thus, I am even more curious.

Me: Does Mom know you're doing this?

Harrison: She told me I could do it!

Me: Are you sure? How many times have you called her?

Harrison: [Inaudible number]

I started putting two and two together and deducted that my mini Don Draper had been allowed to call his dear, sweet Jill once. However, sometime after that call, he used the "recently dialed" feature on his Mom's cell without her knowledge.

Me: Harrison, you need to listen to Jill's dad and stop calling. Do you understand?

Harrison: I don't see what his problem is?

Me: That's not the point, son. You're being rude, and besides, daddy's are supposed to protect their daughters from boys like you.

Harrison: I don't care if I get in trouble. I love her!

This explains why he's been hounding me for a cell phone of late. It's also why I'm fitting him with ankle tracking device before he finishes the 1st grade.

You see? This is exactly what I'm talking about.

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