Dangers Lurking in the Laundry

I have recently developed a fear of laundry. It isn't a clinical issue yet, but if it keeps going in the direction I feel it going, I may become debilitated at some point. I am not meaning that there is so much I can't keep up, or that there are mysterious stains I can't get out, or that I suddenly can't stand the feeling of detergent that occasionally gets on my hands.

No, I am talking about the now-cryptic, shredded-paper note-fragments that show up in the dryer from The Boy's pockets. From the looks of the handwriting--not being a CSI-trained analyst, of course, but once being a junior student--these are notes from...brace yourself...GIRLS!

What is MY little boy doing that he is getting notes from GIRLS?!?

You may say, well, he is a cute kids. Don't you see that, you over protective Mom?

Yes, I see him. But when I see him, I also see his goofy little cow-licked, fresh-from-bed hair, his sweet little-boy-hold-me-mom- I'm scared- eyes, and his triumphant-I-made-mom-laugh-smile. I am not ready to see him as some ninth-grade, babe-a-licious-beau-hunk.

I debated with myself whether I should hack into his Facebook account and write a "back off you predatory girls" notice. But I don't want to embarrass him. Not really. But I do want to protect him. And I want to keep him safe. And I want to be sure he makes good decisions when I can't be there to protect him and keep him safe.

Does that "mama-bear" feeling ever go away?! So far this Mama-Bear hasn't ever hibernated. If junior high girls don't sleep away the winter, neither can I.

Hey, I'm glad he has friends and I am glad that girls think he is cute. But if I had my way, the girls would think he was cute from far away, and in total silence until he was 22 or 23.

Is that too much to ask? Or is there a Han Solo-like carbon freezing option until he is that old? Or maybe I am the one who needs to be carbon frozen instead. Or I just should stop doing the laundry.