ABOUT MEN

By Mike Gordon
Advertiser Staff Writer

The kids hanging out at the neighborhood Starbucks were not doing anything wrong.

Sure, they were exuberant, slightly obnoxious and definitely oblivious to everyone else. But they were typical 7th- and 8th-grade boys and girls enjoying the early hours of a warm Saturday night without parents.

One of the boys clacked a skateboard on the slate floor. A wide-eyed girl blushed at something someone said. And a late arrival breezed toward the women's restroom wearing an oversized blouse, only to return a moment later in a string top.

I thought they were too young to be out alone until I remembered I had done pretty much the same thing. Youth's first taste of freedom is intoxicating.

I sat with my family unit — Mrs. G and the Little Darlings — watching all this from across the room when Firstborn says: "Mom, when I'm that old will you let me..."

"Not under any circumstances!"

"...hang out like that?"

In the silence that followed, I realized my tidy world was changing.

It didn't matter how I had grown up. I felt as if I needed to brace for a stomach punch. My little girl was growing up. No way was I ready.

Hints of this approaching cataclysm had been around for months, but dear old clueless Dad had not understood their meaning.

Evanescence and Fountains of Wayne had replaced the cheerful tunes of Radio Disney.

Strange new underthings hung from the clothesline.

And the 6th graders at Firstborn's school were invited to a school dance. With boys. Boys! Fortunately, at least for me, Firstborn chose not to dance with any of them.

Believe me, this father does not know best.

He doesn't know squat, actually.

His back is to the screaming freight train called early adolescence, his fingers are in his ears and his head is firmly planted in the sand.

When my children were younger, I never imagined them at an older age, probably because they were so labor-intensive that I never had time.

Maybe it was easier because there were two of them, three years apart, both young. The sweet moments of parenting glided by and I reveled in them without much thought.

I held their hands to cross the street. I caught them at the bottom of playground slides. I wiped away tears after they fell off wobbling bicycles.

Rarely did I think: This won't last forever.

But trust a child to deliver life's true, heart-warming surprises. Not every part of their little lives has left childhood behind.

At bedtime, Firstborn still wants a kiss goodnight. When I leave for work, she demands a hug.

We left the noisy kids at the coffee shop for a movie — PG-13, no less — and I squashed a gurgle of emotions as we walked to the theater. Grumpy old Dad trying not to be a softy.

That's when I got a second reminder about how unpredictable growing up can be.

For no reason at all, Firstborn was holding my hand.

Reach Mike Gordon at mgordon@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8012.