Where the Boys Are

If you were to hang with me in my kitchen each morning, you would hear me say one of the following to my 6 year old. After, “Move out of the way of the coffee pot.”

“Um, honey, the pink and yellow stripes don’t really work with the orange floral capris.”

“Cailey, you’ve worn that same dress every day for three weeks now. Stop digging it out of the trash laundry.”

And you most certainly would hear me say, “Cailey, brush your hair.” And every morning she disappears for a few seconds, returning with the same rat’s nest atop her sweet head.

My little fire brand is an enigma. On the one hand, she’s a tough little slingshot carrying tomboy. Turn around and she’s a prancing fairy princess. With impossible hair.

She’s shown little interest in the opposite sex. Well. Except for a brief eye batting session with the one shoed nose picker when she was 5. I was ever so hopeful that she wouldn’t take a shine to the boys for many years to come.

Because of how it will most certainly age the parents.

Ask my Dad.

I had my first crush when I was 3. I held up candy bars and taunted him with, “My David, come play with me.” His name was not David. It was Jeff. And he was an older man of 6. And yes indeed, he always came over to my side of the street.

I received my first kiss at 6. I was in the backseat of the car with a neighbor boy. Our mothers were in the front. My mom told me that she heard me say, “Ooohhh, do that again!” She looked up from the road into the rear view mirror as little Chris planted another kiss on me.

She nearly wrecked the car.

I was then placed in parochial school. Which didn’t help. During the Parent/Nun conference, my folks were informed by the Sister that I was entirely too interested in the boys.

I was engaged by the 4th grade. My “boyfriend” wadded up a piece of paper containing a dime store bumble bee ring and threw it at me during class. I responded gleefully with, “Oh, Tom, you shouldn’t have!”

I think I have good reason to worry, even if my girls only inherited a fraction of my genes.

So, a few days ago I was sitting in the garage with the door open, while my children were playing outside. A sweet little 8 year old neighbor boy was riding his bike back and forth in front of the house. The girls were writing on the driveway with the sidewalk chalk. And the giggling began.

Oh no. I know that giggling.

I got up to see that Cailey had written “I love you,” for little Tommy’s amusement. My first reaction was all, “I didn’t know you could spell that!” Then quickly dissolved into a fervent stage whisper, “Are you insane? Erase that!!!” Following was a quick impromptu speech on just being friends.

And then the other shoe dropped. She came sashaying through the garage. “What are you doing?” I called after her.

“I’m just going to go brush my hair.”

Help. Me.

February 21, 2008

22 Responses to Where the Boys Are

  • Looks like the apple didn’t fall too far from the proverbial tree, mom. lol

  • I hope you have the shotgun loaded!
    And as an added benefit, you could use it on the fr*g.

  • At least she brushed her hair…

    giggle…

  • For me, it started young as well.

    I received my first, and most precious love letter at 4.

    “Dear Kelli,

    I think you look pretty with rollers in your hair.

    Love,

    Nathan (name changed to protect the innocent)”

    It came in the mail, a week after my mom forced me to wear my waist length, hard to curl hair in rollers for 7 days prior to my Sunday School teacher’s wedding.

    And it was stuffed with 5 jelly beans.

    All of which are still tucked away in keepsake box.

    13 years later, I asked that boy to the Sadie Hawkins dance, and got a kiss at the end of the night.

    Now, I have a daughter of my own with the same tendencies.

    Sigh.

  • My daughter is 5 and had her heart broken by a boy from church when, on return from 2 weeks holiday away, he promptly informed her that he had gotten a new girlfriend while she was away. She still talks about it and this was more than a year ago and she hasn’t seen him in all this time cause we have since immigrated. Not because of her broken heart…
    She’s gone off boys for now for which I am very glad but I would love her to get a bit of dress sense/hair sense as she also likes to wear the same outfit day after day, not to mention the hair always covering ½ her face. But then she is only 5 and can still get away with it.

    Good luck with the boys…

  • Sean is thus far immune from the overt advances of the many many women that swoon at his feet. And push and shove to stand next to him at soccer. However if one offered a candy bar, that would change things. That part is genetic.

  • LOL! That’s all I can say.

  • My 4 year old is boy crazy already. She’s always commenting about how “He’s cuuuute” when she sees a cute boy. I’m afraid.

  • oh, no ! sound like your going to have a lot to pray about!

  • your not alone, my 8 year old daughter once sat next to a boy at a bonfire with me, her dad, and the boys parents sitting right there and she insisted that meant they were “dating” lol. she is so boy crazy I am afraid she will be married by age 10.

  • Oh yes,, I was one of those–met the man I was going to marry when I was 5 (I didn’t–I married the little boy I went to the Y swimming lessons with–though I didn’t know him then.) I kissed him in the middle of Kindergarten circle time.

    Now my middle child is a lot like yours–all about the crazy hair and mismatched outfits (yesterday she came down with three separate very bright patterns on.) She is also all about the boys. Oh my.

  • That is so funny! Kids make me laugh. My nephew announced one day that he was going to marry his friend, Katie. (he was 4) Now (he is 5) he does not really want to play with her as much if other boys are around. His reason? “She make me play things the ‘right’ way!” Get used to it, Gav…she is a girl! 🙂

  • My 6-year-old is giving me gray hair already. She’s lost a (girl) friend or two because all she talks about is boys. And when we counsel her about it, I don’t know if she actually chills out, or just hides it.

    ACK.

  • Oh, lordy…

    On Monday my 8-year-old asked to take his comb to school so he could “keep his hair lookin’ nice for the ladies”…

    Excuse me?!?!?!?!

  • Everybody, awesome.

    Last week, my 7 year old was talking about her Valentine Hunter cuz he’s so cute.

  • Oh, girl… you might as well forget it because you are IN TROUBLE. First comes Love, then comes hair arrangements… next thing you know she’s gonna match those tops to those bottoms and start wearing different dresses to catch ol’ Tommy’s attention. I’m just sayin’…

    I’ll say a prayer for you now, dear sister. You’re gonna need all the help you can get.

  • Oh no your in trouble now!

  • I got stuck here: “A few days ago I was sitting in the garage with the door open….”

    If I attempted that, I would be a Popsicle. But it might be amusing to see the kids try to use their sidewalk chalk on the ice.

    Ahhhh. To be young and in love in warm Armpit, Florida.

  • Nothing generates grey hair as effectively as young love.

  • My dd’s best friend, Paul, is going to be her roommate when they get big, she says. She’s the older woman by 9 months and will be 7 next month.

    She told me they’ll have a house but they’re not going to run around deciding which room to decorate.

    I just stare.

  • Oh good golly. Jesus, please, please, please come back before my girls discover boys!!!

  • My days are filled with boys who change clothes more often than a runway model, choke us out with the smell of Axe or Tag (you moms of boys know what I’m talking about) and spend more time on hair care and (my) money on skin care products than I thought possible. Whoever said boys were easier and less maintenance, was WRONG!!!