One of the unfortunate side effects of N's thirst (or should we call it obsession?) with accumulating information is that it sometimes gets into the realm of relationships and then if he's not listening carefully (as can happen to any of us) he gets his wires crossed and has to dip into his store of wit and charm to diffuse an uncomfortable situation.
Example: In college, one of N's go-to questions when casually talking with a friend or acquaintance who was known to be involved in a romantic relationship was to innocently ask how it was going. On more than one occasion, in fact often enough to discourage the less nosey, N found himself frantically searching for something to say to the response that the relationship had recently and usually painfully ended. It's a good thing he's witty and charming...
Apparently this knack for awkward relational information gathering/dispersing translates. We meet weekly with a group of three high school students. Their relationship with the foreign teachers started five years ago when our predecessors got drafted to spend time with the children of important people at our school as a favor. They've been handed down through the years and while the obligation has more than been met, we've kept the meetings going because we just really like them.
Last night, Rex, Toby, and Felicity (their English names) were here and we were doing what we do when Rex mentioned his girlfriend. You could almost see N salivate. We didn't know he had a girlfriend. We looked at pictures, we heard the get-together story, and then N asked if his mother had met the girl. Nope. Does she know about her? N hears static...
Awhile later the kids leave and we realize that Rex has left his keys so N calls his mother (who is also a good friend of ours) so she can let him know. Surely, you see where this is going... before A and I can stop him, the words are out of his mouth and he's scrambling to manage the damage... "I wouldn't worry about it. Teenagers are the same all over the world. Mothers are the last to know...." A and I cradle our foreheads in our hands.
Before he gets home, Rex realizes he's left his keys and comes back to our house. A and I feel it's only fair that Rex knows what to expect when he gets home so we force N out the door to walk with him and explain what he's done. Rex reacts as though a gun has gone off nearby throwing his arms over his head and ducking for cover. N apologizes profusely explaining that he missed the part of the conversation where Rex mentioned that the relationship was still a secret. Rex recovers and seems to see (if not appreciate) the humor in the situation.
Fortunately, N's wit and charm translate too. We still have the friendship (and hopefully trust) of a teenage boy and his mother.
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