Your question this morning nearly gave me a heart attack. Even though I cooly replied, “Yeah, I guess you should like all your friends, including the boys,” my heart jolted because I knew that that wasn’t what you meant at all.
I kind of had the idea that you liked this boy you meet (almost) every Sunday at church. Let me tell you about the conversation we had after lunch, last Sunday:
You: Mom, I met (his name) today. He said, “Hey M1, you look sick!”
Me: What? Why? Were you not feeling well?
You: Mom. (In a slightly condescending tone like you couldn’t believe that I was that stupid.) If he says, “M1, you look sick.” then yeah, I might be unhealthy and I need to see a doctor. But he said, “Hey M1, you look siiiiick” (like singing with smirk face and swag hands) then it means that I’m cool. (Insert giggles here.) He made me blush! (Insert blushed face and heart eyes emoji here.)
I failed to understand how you came to the conclusion, because in my days, when someone tells you that you look sick, it pretty much means that you look like crap. But what do I know, right? Let’s conveniently blame this on the generation gap.
On a more important note, MY BABY GIRL HAS A CRUSH ON A BOY! (Gasp. Gasp. Gasp.) Ah, I’m not ready for this. You made me promise to keep this a secret. I can’t help but feel slightly overjoyed that you trust me enough to honestly pour out your feelings to me. I feel loved. On the other hand, I feel slightly miffed that you’re growing up so fast and that there’s no way I can stop it.
This morning, you told me that you liked my friend’s son, the one you regularly meet at Sunday school, because he is handsome and cool. This morning, I told you that it’s okay to like boys because you have to like your friends even if they are boys. But this morning, I didn’t tell you that liking boys is a natural phase in life and while I’m glad you’re feeling and experiencing something you, I wish that it didn’t come this soon for you.