There is this girl at my daughters' dance school who gives new meaning to "Lolita." She's a high schooler, maybe a sophomore or junior. She is, for lack of better description, hot. She has a perfect body: long shapely legs, defined rear, and slim build. She has long blond hair, with long bangs that angle over one eye. She wears the latest fashion of UGG boots over skin tight jeans. She's striking but not in that wide-eyed, angelic way; she has more of a bad-girl sexy look, if that makes any sense. Oh yeah, did I mention that she is a cheerleader?
She's hard not to notice. When I first looked into her dance class while waiting for my little girl to finish, I saw all the girls spinning and kicking, but eventually my eye rested of her. And stared. Now, as my glance skims over the crowd, my brain notices if she's there. If I, a completely heterosexual middle-aged mother, react to her in this way, I can only imagine the effect she must have on those hapless teenage boys. The way she saunters around demonstrates that she knows it, too.
Just the other day, as she was walking down the hall towards me, she walked past this middle-aged man waiting for his daughter to finish. This man, probably in his 40's or 50's, immediately did a double take and stared at her until she was out of sight.
Watching his reaction to her and knowing that he was just a normal family man disturbed me. How are we supposed to protect our young daughters from predators if they are naturally enticing? Is it any wonder old men like them young?
Lucky for her, she's got that repelling teenage haughtiness going for her. Otherwise she might seriously conquer the male species. I've only seen her mother once,
but the next time I see her, I'm tempted to go up and talk to her, tell her to put some less sexy clothes on her daughter, to watch and protect her carefully.
I try not to run into the girl anymore. She conjures up dark thoughts and worries inside me that I don't like to visit. I prefer to watch my little girls clamor over Spotty.
She's hard not to notice. When I first looked into her dance class while waiting for my little girl to finish, I saw all the girls spinning and kicking, but eventually my eye rested of her. And stared. Now, as my glance skims over the crowd, my brain notices if she's there. If I, a completely heterosexual middle-aged mother, react to her in this way, I can only imagine the effect she must have on those hapless teenage boys. The way she saunters around demonstrates that she knows it, too.
Just the other day, as she was walking down the hall towards me, she walked past this middle-aged man waiting for his daughter to finish. This man, probably in his 40's or 50's, immediately did a double take and stared at her until she was out of sight.
Watching his reaction to her and knowing that he was just a normal family man disturbed me. How are we supposed to protect our young daughters from predators if they are naturally enticing? Is it any wonder old men like them young?
Lucky for her, she's got that repelling teenage haughtiness going for her. Otherwise she might seriously conquer the male species. I've only seen her mother once,
but the next time I see her, I'm tempted to go up and talk to her, tell her to put some less sexy clothes on her daughter, to watch and protect her carefully.I try not to run into the girl anymore. She conjures up dark thoughts and worries inside me that I don't like to visit. I prefer to watch my little girls clamor over Spotty.
3 comments:
Who is Spotty?
You can read about spotty here:
http://fearlessmom.blogspot.com/2008/11/spotty-and-meltdown-days.html
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Take my daugher for example. She's purrrfect and I know she's going to grow up and be a maneater... sniff, sniff.
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