dances

I took my nearly 15 year old son, Adam, to his junior high Valentine's Day dance a couple weeks ago. His friend, Brenton was in the van with us so I decided to give the boys some "advice" for the dance. The first thing I said was, "Can I come in and dance, too?" Before I finished my sentence I received a very definite "no!" from my child. However, Brenton said I could come in and dance. He then mentioned that another friend's mother came to a recent dance to dance with her son and after he refused Brenton stepped up and danced with her. I said, "Well, if Adam won't dance with me, will you dance with me, Brenton?" Before I finished that sentence I had a very definite "no!" from my child. But Brenton said he would of course laughing the whole time.
I then decided to really give the advice. I said, "Okay. Let me give you some pointers. Make sure you look in the girls' eyes. Don't look at their boobies. Girls don't want you to look at their boobies. You must look them in the eyes at all times."
Adam was dying and he was captive in the front seat of a moving vehicle. Brenton on the other hand could barely contain himself in the back seat.
Then I said, "Also, don't dance too close to the girl. There is nothing grosser to a girl than to be dancing with some sweaty kid too close and he has a, you know, boner (I said this in a whisper). That's totally gross."
At this point we had neared the entrance of the school and the door was open before I had stopped the vehicle. "Mom! Shut up!" he yelled. Brenton can't even sit up straight at this point for laughing so hard.
As he loped to the front entrance, I got up next to the sidewalk with the van, rolled down my window and yelled, "If you need any more pointers, honey, just give me a jingle!" At this point I can't contain myself any longer and start laughing maniacaly as I roll the window up.
I thought that was pretty funny.