When Jane was eight years old she asked me if she could get her ears pierced. “I can ask Daddy” was my reply, “but first you should know that they take a needle and jam a hole though your earlobe.”
She retracted visibly.
“Do you want me to ask Daddy?” I continued sweetly.
“No thanks Mom.” said Jane.
Fast forward two years, Jane is impatient to be ten, an official tween. I’m tucking her in to bed and she says, “Mom, after the soccer season I’d really like to get my ears pierced. Like for my birthday.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for it?” I ask.
“Yes, I talked to my friends and they say it doesn’t hurt when Doctor JJ does it.” She stoically replied.
“Alrighty then, I’ll ask Daddy what he thinks, but I’m not promising anything and I’m not arguing your case.” I tucked her in for the night, very excited about the promise of pierced ears.
The following day she saw High School Musical 3 and was talking with friends about middle school kids who kiss. “When do you think that you’ll kiss a boy?” I asked.
She smirks at me and says nothing. The baby blues roll around a little and finally she says, “Maybe when I’m older, like when I get my ears pierced.”
“Oh, about that,” I swiftly replied, “Daddy said no. You’re too young. Sorry kiddo.”