A recent conversation with my five-year-old. Names have been changed to protect my possible future daughter-in-law.
Kid: Mom? I've got something to tell you.
Me: You do?
Kid: Yup. But you might not like it.
Me: Oh, dear. Lay it on me.
Kid: I'm engaged.
Me: Excuse me? Do you know what that means?
Kid: Yup. I'm going to marry Claire.
Me: You are?
Kid: Don't you like her?
Me: Of course I like Claire. She's a very nice little girl. But I think you might be too young for marriage.
Kid: Don't worry, I won't marry her 'til we're grown up.
Me: What's grown up?
Kid: When can I drive a car?
Kid: Sixteen then.
Me: Where will you live?
Kid: She can sleep in my bed. I have you and daddy's old bed.
Me: But you share a room with your little brother.
Kid: He won't mind.
Me: Can I ask how you became engaged to Claire?
Kid: I told her she was beautiful.
Me: That was nice of you.
Kid: And I like her clothes and I like her green swimming suit.
Me: (thinking) My five-year-old notices what girls look like in swimming suits!?!? Heaven help us all...
Kid: I think she's as beautiful as you are, Mommy.
Me: (melting a little in spite of the circumstances) You're a very sweet boy, honey.
Kid: Can I call Claire's mom and dad? I have to tell them that we're getting married.
Me: I think we'd better put that phone call off for a while (like another twenty years)...
* * * * * * * * * *
It's true, all of it. Not a word of a lie. Though I should give you a little background to help you understand where my son is coming from.
In exactly one week he will start kindergarten (sniff-sniff). A few decades ago, when my son's daddy went to his very first day of kindergarten, he got sent home. Yup, you read that right--they sent a five-year-old home from his first day of kindergarten. Why? Because my husband pushed a little girl into a cupboard and kissed her until she started to cry. Nowadays, they'd probably slap the kid with a sexual harassment suit. Thankfully, back then they just called his mom to pick him up (and, presumably, have a long talk about the inappropriateness of kissing girls who don't want to be kissed in cupboards where they don't want to be shoved).
Anyway, pair my recent engagement conversation with my husband's Cassanova-ish history, and I'm afraid I have a little lover on my hands... Pray for me, will you? And my handsome son... I miss the days when the woman he wanted to marry was me.