It’s Thursday, so I’ve had love on the brain. (Love Thursday being the reason, of course.) I had all intention of writing about a new book we got just recently but… my children, they give me content. For free. They’re good little content producers.
We had to bring home BigBrother’s girlfriend, A1, from preschool today. Her Mom had an appointment so we brought her home with us. (Through this experience we also learned that two booster seats of different brands and one Britax roundabout fit in the back seat of our GMC Sonoma. Win!) We stopped at the Fire Department so BigBrother could tell FireDad about his day. As I was saying my goodbyes, I hear BigBrother whisper across the row of car seats, “A1, I love you so much, too.”
Later, as they had snack together in the kitchen, I heard, “A1, I love you,” followed by, “BB, I love you, too.”
Now, in the living room, they’re sitting with barely any space between the two of them, holding hands, watching a Wubbzy DVD (to be reviewed soon) still whispering things about love. Just last week, after I informed him that he couldn’t, in fact, marry me since Daddy is already married to me, he told me that he was going to marry A1. And they were going to name their children the names of LittleBrother and A1. In all likelihood, they’ll probably just end up friends. (But there is this part of me that thinks, “Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to like my son’s in laws?” Because, yes, that would be nice.)
What warms my heart is that my oldest son hasn’t lost the desire to express love. He hasn’t been told to be a brute. He doesn’t have to push her down to let her know that he likes her, ala the movie “He Just Not That Into You.” He may play basketball but he tells me that he loves me as he leaves the court, complete with a kiss. Even though mean and nasty anonymous commenters think that they know better, I think we’re doing just fine. If you want to raise the child that beats mine up, well, that’s your prerogative. We’ll stick with the concept of love, thank you very much.
That is, until LittleBrother makes a move on A1. He just brough his favorite yellow fire boot to her, said “silly!” and batted his little eyelashes. And then, just now, I asked him to give me a kiss, and he ran over to give A1 a kiss. Oh dear. I’m in trouble. Or, LittleBrother is in trouble. Or, maybe, BigBrother is in trouble. Or, perhaps, we’re all in trouble.