Remember when you were five years old? I loved to play Barbie’s and wanted to be a teacher when I grew up. Or Laura Ingalls Wilder. My brother and I used to fight over watching Little House on the Prairie. That led to my scratching my name into the side of his car once, but that’s a whole other post.
I wasn’t a fast mover like my own daughter is. I don’t remember worrying about my hair, although that could be because my mother chopped it off in a ridiculously short style, something I’ve never quite forgiven her for. I didn’t flirt with the boys, constantly trying to get their attention. I didn’t even have my first kiss until I was seven, for God’s sake!
Not Grace. She’s been a mover and shaker since conception, kicking me to death and shoving her butt into my ribs long before she was born. She sat up when she was four months, walked at 10, and said her first two-word sentence by 12 months. “Me, dis.” Naturally.
She’s always been outgoing, chattering up people in the supermarket when she could barely babble. My husband and I have no idea where she gets her personality from – neither of us like people.
And now she’s got a boyfriend. It’s pretty serious too – they’ve been together since January. His name is Logan, and he’s in her K-Prep class at school. Sometimes she’s not sure if he’s still her boyfriend, so she has to ask.
Logan says she’s a “hot babe,” and Grace says he’s “really cute.”
And so it begins.
I knew I was in trouble this fall when she informed me she couldn’t wear jeans to school every day, that she needed fancy clothes. Next was getting particular about her hair and accessories. She thinks she needs makeup but so far I’ve managed to thwart that dreaded moment.
I have to admit, Logan is a cutie. A couple of weeks ago, we arrived to school at the same time as he and his dad, and Grace got all giggly. She loudly whispered to me that was “Logan, my boyfriend,” and then leaned over and asked him, “are you still my boyfriend?”
He blushed and nodded with a big grin on his face.
Their relationship has only grown since then. Logan lives just down the street (isn’t that wonderful?!), and Wednesday Grace and her daddy were out front playing soccer. Who happens to drive by but Logan and his dad. They stop to chat, and the conversation between the kids went something like this:
Logan: did you tell your dad about the secret?
Grace: no, I won’t
Grace’s dad: what secret?
Both kids: Nothing!
Logan: Hey Grace, I’ve got a jeep with headlights, and I can take you for a ride any time you want.
Learning tricks from his teenage brother, no doubt.
So what’s the big secret? Daddy thinks it’s of the kissing kind. No, I say. She says she’s not going to kiss him until they’re married.
Me: Grace, did you kiss Logan? (I’m expecting the normal, ew, no!”
Grace: *Blushes and grins* I don’t want to talk about it now. We’ll talk about it at Christmas.
Me: You kissed Logan? Where?
Grace: *Rolls her eyes* On the playground, Mom.
Me: On the lips?
Grace: *Shrugs shoulders* I don’t remember.
Well, at least the kid’s technique needs work. Hopefully that means there won’t be a second kiss for a while.
Daddy’s worried about Logan’s offer to drive Grace around in his jeep any time she wants. He’s thinking he’ll need to have a talk with this kid.
Grace insists she’s going to marry him some day and they’ll live with us, of course. She’s going to live with her mommy forever.
Fabulous. Logan better have a good job to help us retire early.