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To My Boy

To My Boy

Dear Boyo,

I ditched an entire semester of AP English so I could smoke pot with older boys. I talked my way out of suspension and got an A anyway. My mom never found out.

I ditched an entire year of PE and talked my way out of suspension again. I had to make it up senior year, but there was no other consequence because I successfully convinced my mom and the school administration that I couldn't find the class.

The principal of the school caught me smoking and I begged him not to tell my mom because "it would kill her". He kept it quiet and I held up my end of the bargain by not smoking on campus again.

I skipped a journalism retreat so I could spend the night at a friend's house while her parents were out of town. We had a party and I drank a ridiculous amount of alcohol and slept under a pool table next to a boy named Milo. My mom found out that I skipped the retreat, but I convinced her that it was because I was intimidated to be with that many strangers and I felt safer at my friend's house. I also convinced her that my friend was afraid to be home alone so I decided last minute to help her out.

In eighth grade I was caught making out with a senior. At Christian school. In the church. By the pastor. While the boy was feeling me up. The pastor was so mortified that neither of us got in trouble.

I snuck out of my room to hang out with a boy and spend the night making out on a bench at the nearby elementary school. I walked home early in the morning and never got caught.

I never went to summer school. I instead hung out at my friend's house all summer getting high and drunk and hanging out with guys way older than me. In fact, I didn't need to attend summer school, but I said I had to in order to get the freedom I needed during the day. My mom thought I had an uneventful summer.

Why am I telling you this? Well, child, I need you to know that when you come to me saying "the school needs your sample signature", I am on to you. You are in the minor leagues, chump, while I have my own wing in the Hall of Motherfucking Fame. Maybe one day you'll get something by me, but I was way more advanced at 11 than you seem to be. I had already had my first drink (gross malt liquor) and kissed boys by then. My mom was too busy dealing with my older twin brothers that she wasn't able to see what I was doing right in front of her face. You're an only child, little man, and while I do go to work, I have eyes and ears everywhere.

So you have two choices: 1. Step up your game and come up with a better story; or 2. Get used to no electronics for a month at a time, because you are not me, and I am not my mom.

I love you.

* A note I will never actually send to my 11 year old boy....

By: Amy Bernadino

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