Pillow Talk

"I'm worried. What's the matter with him?"

My eyelids fluttered briefly, as I contemplated opening them. Short talk: closed; long talk: open.

She turned on the lamp.

My eyelids decided to stay steadfastedly shut; scrunchily shut.

She nudged me gently.

If I pretended to be asleep alre--

She elbowed me in the ribs.


"Eh?"

"Our son. He's been so mopey, lately. Haven't you noticed?"

My ribs let it be known that they would not brook another jab and sent fair warning that I should attend to the source of said jabbing to prevent further abuse. My eyes opened slowly to adjust to the lamplight and I turned to face she of the soft, yet forceful elbows.

"He's 14. Isn't it sort of expected?"

She sat up.

"Can't you take anything seriously? I'm really concerned for him! What if he's gotten into a gang and has been taking drugs or something?"

I mentally chided myself for breaking the cardinal rule of pillow talk: thou shalt not disagree with thine woman. Damage control, STAT.

I sat up as well, and wrapped my arm around her. "That certainly would be a cause for worry. Has he been doing anything suspicious?"

"I don't know. He doesn't talk anymore? He used to be so cheerful; now he looks like everyone's out to get him."

She looked up at me.

Danger! Danger! Imminent request! Imminent request! I knew what was coming next, but I was powerless to stop it. Curse you, mood lighting, warm snuggle and beseeching eyes!

"Can you talk to him?"

I felt the warmth being sapped out of my body. I pulled the blankets higher.

"T-talk?"

"Yeah, you know, man to man, or whatever it is that guys do."

"Uh, guys don't talk."

"Pfft. You talk to me. We're talking right now."

"Guys don't talk to guys?"

"Quit trying to weasel out of it. This is serious. He's your son."

Great idea! How can I weasel out of this? Ah! Throw her off the scent.

"I'm pretty sure it's not gangs or drugs."

"Oh yeah? Well what do you think it is then?"

"I remember being 14. It's probably just a girl." I slouched down against to headboard to return to a position more conducive to sleep. Problem solved.

She turned and put her chin on my chest.

"Really? You were like this when you had a crush on someone?"

"Oh definitely. Mopey, sluggish, completely anti-social."

"That does sound like the way he's been acting. Wait, who did you have a crush on?"

I poked her nose. "You, silly."

"Balderdash. You didn't know me when you were 14."

"Heh. It doesn't matter what age. When you like someone who isn't really reciprocating, you're bound to get mopey."

"I reciprocated!"

"Way too subtly."

"So you think he's just got a crush on a girl?"

"Mmhmm."

She grinned.

"So you definitely have to talk to him about that! Find out who it is! Oh, God. What if he's already... you have to have the Talk with him!"

Ah crud.