Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, February 13, 1994                   TAG: 9402150017
SECTION: CURRENT                    PAGE: NRV-2   EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY 
SOURCE: Donna Alvis-Banks
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

BEING DUMPED FOR YOUNGER WOMEN|

"If you think there are no new frontiers, watch a boy ring the front doorbell on his first date."

Valentine's Day won't be the same since I lost my two best boyfriends.

It seems like only yesterday they showered me with gifts ... dandelion bouquets, painted rocks, lightnin' bugs in peanut butter jars.

Once, they made a Valentine card for me. The fingerpainted message said "Your sweat."

About six years ago, the younger one even proposed .

``Mom,'' he said, ``I'm going to marry you when I grow up.''

Well, it's happening faster than I expected. My two best boyfriends are growing up.

Suddenly, they're using deodorant. They're brushing their teeth without being nagged. They're wearing (I kid you not) silk underwear.

My oldest son got his first love note last year. It was written in pink ink and folded in the shape of a heart.

I wept.

He's only 12.

My youngest son fell in love with Amanda, age 10.

He's 11.

A few months ago, he came home looking feverish.

``Are you well?'' I asked, feeling his forehead.

``I asked Amanda to go to the sock hop with me,'' he said.

My eyes flew open.

``You did? What did she say?''

His face beamed.

``She said, `Ok, if you comb your hair a little bit.'''

A few days before Christmas he robbed his piggy bank to buy Amanda's present - a gold bracelet.

``This is REAL gold, Mom,'' he bragged. ``Not that gold-filled stuff.''

``Do you think she'll like it?'' he asked sheepishly.

I smiled, remembering the bracelet he once gave me. It was made out of elbow macaroni and yarn.

``She'll love it,'' I assured him, tousling his blond hair.

It was then I realized my demise.

I had been jilted, ditched, dumped for younger women.

Just as my head was spinning with visions of cars, flowers, tuxedos, class rings, wedding gowns and grandchildren, my son's earnest voice interrupted the wail rising in my throat.

``Hey, Mom,'' he called from the bathroom. ``Where's the hairspray?''

Donna Alvis-Banks is an editorial assistant in the New River Valley bureau of the Roanoke Times & World-News.