I have a crush on a girl in my class, mommy. We are going to get married in the spring, at a wedding, at recess. She’s been planning it with her friends. Rowan offers this info at bedtime, as I lie between him and Zoe, reading them a book.
A crush!!! What is she like? Is she funny??? I ask.
Yes.
And is she smart?
Very!
And what does she look like? What color is her hair? I prod, pushing the malleable boundaries of his memory.
Oh…it’s been so long since I’ve seen her…(Ed. note: he has been on spring break for 6 days) … I don’t remember…
It’s BROWN! Zoe shrieks. And she wears it in PONYTAILS, sometimes.
No she DOESN’T! admonishes Rowan.
Yes she DOES!!!!
Zoe, she’s MY girlfriend, and I know that she NEVER wears ponytails!!!!!
Whoa, whoa, let’s get back to what color her eyes are! I butt in, casually steering the boat back to the safer color train.
Zoe’s eyes well up with tears. She DOES wear ponytails, mommy!!!
Okay! I say. I am obviously more inclined to believe her, since this guy over here doesn’t even remember what color hair she has, and they’re about to get married.
So, he’s sort of tall? Kind of. With…hair? Yeah. And he wears t-shirts sometimes? Yeah. That’s it? Yes. I mean, he’s Preston, ya know? I like that guy.
And do you have a crush on anyone, Zoe?
She buries her head in her pillow and pretends like she’s not going to tell me. Three and a half seconds later, she pops up from the cotton sateen. Okay, okay. It’s Autumn. She whispers it. Her face is red.
AUTUMN’S NOT GAY, ZOE. Rowan hollers.
We don’t know that! I counter.
We do. Because I asked her. She’s just not gay. Rowan shrugs.
Okay, well, things can change over time, I soothe Zoe, who has had both boyfriends and girlfriends over her many wise years, mentally making a note to re-order our now-burned copy of It’s Not the Stork! when Zoe asks me how two boys who love each other could even have a baby, if they wanted to.
This led to her asking a hundred questions about whether or not it hurts to give birth, and what Rowan was like when he came out of me, and how big he was, to which I’m always keenly aware to immediately offer stories to Zoe about when she was a newborn lest she feel left out of these stories since I did not give birth to her and didn’t meet her until she was 2 weeks old. I told the story of what she was like when we picked her up from the NICU, how small she was when we brought her home, how perfect she was, how much she loved to cuddle. She gushes over this information every time. Awwww she says. I was soooOOOOO CUTE, wasn’t I?? I was so tiny! How big were my arms exactly???
I entertained all these questions and then put a neat bow on the crush conversation by instructing No kissing anyone until 8th grade, though, okay? Then I re-opened Smile, a book they have begged me to read to them no less than 75 times now.
We know, we know. But we can always kiss you, right? Rowan confirms, taking my cheeks between his still-tiny hands, giving me a juicy kiss.
Wonder if, when I’m away for work, if asked, if he can come up with my hair color. It’s just that we’ve shared so very many kisses. It’d only be fair.
So cute. I love your storytelling.
so funny! Glad you are enjoying your children!