The Post Online - The Family Guy by Brett Buckner

May 31, 2010

The Diva gets a real boyfriend. Yippee!

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There have been boyfriends before. These were mostly dudes with floppy hair, whose grunts of “Hey” greeted me whenever The Diva's cell phone had been confiscated. But those were mostly “texting” relationships; actual human contact was limited to hand-holding underneath lunchroom tables and the accidental bumps in the hall.

It makes me miss fifth grade.

Back then relationships were innocent. There was no need for “The Talk,” or even a need for practicing “The Talk” in a totally hypothetical, not-my-kid-but-the-child-of-a-friend-who-is-a-much-more-paranoid-parent-than-we-are kind of way. Back then, I slept like a baby, totally oblivious to the minefield of terror, dismemberment, death and a lifetime of scorn lurking around every corner. It's a wonderful slice of hell I like to call puberty.

Fifth grade was when the first boy actually had the gall to cross the threshold of the Buckner abode, inviting The Diva to a dance that My Lovely Wife and I were to chaperone. Obviously terrified of me (granted, I answered the door in my cutoff Michael Myers T-shirt, tattoos blazin' and armed with a stare I like to call “Crazy Convict Carryin' a Shank and Ready to Stick It Where the Sun Don't Shine, Boy), this young fellow promised to be respectful.

That relationship didn't last past the first slow dance.

And there were others. The Diva once explained the middle school dating hierarchy to me during an especially long drive to Anniston, but once her voice reached an octave generally reserved for dog whistles and Christina Aguilera during a discussion of certain “cute boys,” I'm afraid my brain short-circuited.

Those were the good ole days.

The Diva's got a real boyfriend now, one she sees every day … and I do mean every freakin' day. And they don't even go to the same school.

Last summer, when The Diva went outside with the frequency of a vampire, My Lovely Wife and I opined about how nice it was to live in a “real neighborhood,” where kids played basketball in the street, walked to each other's house, rode bikes and were generally allowed to act like kids. 'Course, The Diva wanted nothing to do with any of that. She'd make me close the garage door before unloading the groceries for fear of being seen.

That was before Mr. Lanky skulked into our lives. Now, they're out walkin' the neighborhood, hangin' out by the lake, and sitting in the driveway of our house just staring into each other's eyes … OK that last part's a lie. They actually text one another while sitting within punching distance.

And yes, My Lovely Wife and I keep a close eye on both of 'em … just in case. Do we trust The Diva? Yes. Unfortunately, parents aren't allowed a do-over, so we always leap on the side of overprotection, much to The Diva's chagrin.

Though I hated him on site, Mr. Lanky seems like a nice kid. I've been accused of being mean (Duh! Like I'm gonna give him a chest bump or something), of intentionally embarrassing The Diva in his presence, and of conspiring to break them up.

It's all true and I don't feel even the slightest tickle of guilt. Seeing as how the lifecycle of an average middle school relationship is about the same as that of a Sea Monkey, I should just let things run their course.

But it's been two weeks, and my patience is wearing thin. Guess I'd better start practicing my stare.

Brett Buckner is an award-winning former columnist for the Anniston Star. He lives in Columbus, Ga. with his wife, daughter and stepdaughter. His humor column appears regularly in The Post. Contract Brett at brett.buckner@yahoo.com.