The Social Graces of Pre-teens

Two of my former students stopped by yesterday to say hello. They’re both about twelve years old, and I had to hide a laugh when they showed up. I have a special fondness for the social awkwardness of pre-teens. They both obviously went to some trouble to find out where I lived and to come over together. They wanted to see me, to talk with me, and visit. But when they arrived, they had no clue what to do. :coffee:

I gave it my best shot, asking them about their summers, trying for any conversation beyond “Yes” and “Not much.” It was as if they’d planned this visit but once they saw me, it became surreal for them. I offered them cookies and a chance to sit down and talk, but they passed.

Maybe they just wanted to see if I really did have a house and kids instead of living in a closet at school. I think kids secretly believe this. They can be chatterboxes and social butterflies at school, but if they see you in Wal-Mart, their tongues get tied into knots. I can almost hear the voices buzzing inside their heads.

Me: “Hi, there.
Them: It’s Mrs. Willingham! Oh my God! What’s she doing here? She doesn’t have a life outside of grading papers. “Uh, hi.” (Kid hides behind bangs or tries to disappear behind Mom.
Me: “Well, nice to see you!”
Them: Oh my God! She saw me. What does she think of me? She hates me. I know it. That’s why she flunked me on my last test. My life is over now. “Mmmrgrh.”

Middle-schoolers. Gotta love ‘em. :thumbsup: