Oliver, Noah and I sat at a little table in the coffee shop, sipping our drinks and eating treats. We were waiting for Henry to get out of his school meeting. I used the opportunity to slyly inquire about the goings on at the middle school -- you know -- smoke out who has what boyfriend or girlfriend, who's in trouble, etc. I heard about a young "couple" who were "dating," and asked, "Who?" Oliver and Noah exchanged smiles and started laughing, and for a split second I thought it was going to be about Henry, but then they named another boy and another girl, both of whom I don't know.

Oliver: What that girl and her boyfriend do is so gross.

Me: What do they do?

Oliver: Ugh. It's just so gross. I don't even want to tell you.

Me: At your school? Come on! Tell me!

Oliver: NO! I can't! It's too gross!

Me: I think I can handle it, Oliver. Tell me.

Oliver: Give it up, Mom. You're past that. You're too old. You don't get it. You're soooooooo over all of that. You need to give it up.

For a split second I felt indignant and defensive, and then I realized that the image of ancient crone who has no idea of what's going on is a proper charade in these times. I smiled into the sunset and tried to figure out in my head just about when I realized that my parents were people. Good Lord, it took a while.

Reader, do you let your tweens and teens think you have no idea what's going on?