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Let's Not Plan The Honeymoon Just Yet

We were having breakfast with friends
yesterday (National Pancake Day!) when Maddie turned to me and said
matter-of-factly, “Mom, I’ve met the man I’m
going to marry.”

Excuse me?

I looked around the room, trying to find
some handsome busboy who’d spurred this statement on, but saw
no one. Trying to proceed cautiously, I said, “Oh, really,
honey? Who is that?”

“Jonathan,” she answered, naming one of her best
friends at preschool.

“Jonathan’s a really nice boy,” I agreed.
“Yes, I’m afraid I’ve already fallen in love with
him,” she said placidly.

Now, I’ve spent some time with Jonathan, and he’s
incredibly sweet and loves to play with girls thanks to his three
older sisters, but where is this coming from exactly I do not know.
I know she plays with him almost every school day during recess,
and I know he talks a lot to her outside of school –
“hi”ing and “bye”ing every chance he gets.
But where the whole “I’ve fallen in love with
him” came from, I’m not so sure.

I remember my first boyfriend, in kindergarten (Ray, where are
thou?) And I have a distinct memory from second grade: I came home
from school, leaned dreamily against the door, and said,
“Mommy, Ross asked me to propose” while flashing my
soda pop-top ring. These things get started young, and have their
roots in all the Disney-esque fantasies woven around our kids at
that tender age.

For now we’re downplaying it – agreeing that Jonathan
is, indeed, a great kid, without getting into the gender-specific
issues or feeling too flustered. Most of Maddie’s best
friends are boys, and she plays well with them, and I’ve a
feeling she gets along so well with Jonathan at least partly
because he’s amenable to being bossed around (having, as
I’ve mentioned, three older sisters). So we’re going
along for the ride.

But Brian’s already keeping an eye on that hooligan.


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