Biographical

A Sweet Little Memory
I was just listening to the song, “Too Close” by Next, which came out in 1996 or so, and a funny and sweet memory came to mind. We were having a class party, in which I allowed my sixth graders, even reminding them the day before, as we left for home, to bring any CD they wanted as long as it was clean, rated G, No cuss words, or about … you get the idea, so anyway,
I am in my second or third year teaching, sixth graders, and never having a daughter, so I am innocent, even naive of what sixth grade girls are capable of…..the next day, we got maybe two or three CD’s of sixth grade boy or little girl level, you know…Disney or something in a pink cover…I had two sons to raise so know where the boys maturity is about and what they are all about, even remembering when I was that age myself, not so long ago. Lots of these guys,are mostly Hmong, Laotian, Khmer, Mexican, and a couple of African Americans. The mixture of understanding each other was slim to none, without proper, E.L skills that get you past the dazed, opened, mouth response that resembled a cave, revealing teeth that, some needed immediate care, some with lunch still stuck there,being held by some glue that workas better than most of the glues on the market. So thats where the boys are in maturity and, socializing…
The party is going pretty good, when the guy playing the CDs comes up to me, and tells me everybody is bored and want to hear the radio, which to me has too much adult talk, innuendos, and music. So, I get one mine out, I had just bought the is mix of current R&B hits which included the song, “Too Close” I loved the song since day one, never paying attention to the lyrics, or what the song was really about. I just liked the hip hop beat, along with the smooth vocals and the interplay between the male and female singers in the group…wai8t…..wa8t…Duh.I get it now, don’t laugh OK I was new at this..so anyway.
I start the song and everybody and everything was going alright, these two outgoing girls, we will protect the innocent by calling them the fly girls because after while that’s what I learned, that they were a bit more mature than I thought, at that point. They asked if they could get up and dance and I said, “Sure why not, with a boy or what, because I saw nothing but little older little boys. Not a teen or preteen, nope, I saw marble playing, heads with moppet haircuts, which might be a problem, which I did not want being new to the job, and wanting to keep it.
They stated that they wanted to dance by themselves, together. I said sure go over in the corner where the floor is wood. They promptly wernt off to the library hopping and skipping, talking about, …”hoochee mamma and hoochee mamma that.but cake and sweet goods have to be served after the pizza and drinks. Hey! Mr. I. a boy starts tugging at my pants telling me something about the girls they are doing a nasty dance, on the library reading table…I turn around and….
“Man, alive! Gahl-Lee,” I called out, mostly out of the shock and being frozen in my tracks. I was shocked at the dance these girls were doing. They both were flunked a time or two, but in a different light, a different view, the maturity of these girls bodies, had slipped by my good judgment and now were shocking the boys to be opened mouth fans forever. Most were glued to the girls in either a look of shock or embarrassed pleasure. I don’t know.
I told the girls to get off the table, quickly and they no longer could dance because they took advantage of my leniency. Feeling scared that they were going to be trouble told me on the way down that I should not have brought that song to school because how else would you dance that song. I said “Not like that.”
After everyone putting me in a state of shock by telling me about the song, in choruses of about five at a time, said. My DJ just happpened to cue up the song at the place that stated, “…I feel a little poke…from you…girl I know you like it”
My mouth fell off, and I was as red faced as the boys were only a few minutes earlier. I was so embarrassed, not knowing what the song was about, then more embarrassed for being embarrassed.Which made some of the girls all giggle and tell me that it was so cute to see me get all red and being embarrassed.
Moral of the story: None.
This was written as a sweet memory only and I thought since I was writing I would share, because why write it if no one is going to read it.