But It Works For Ashton and Demi!
The Man-Cub has a crush on a little girl in our neighborhood. Her name is Angel and he often asks for permission to invite her over to jump on the trampoline or to play laser tag in the yard and, they can be seen biking down the long hill in front of our house almost daily.
I don’t really know Angel all that well; her family only recently moved into one of the rental properties on the block adjacent to ours but, she seemed nice enough and I thought nothing of the Cub’s interest in her. That is, until The Girl clued me in to the fact that, perhaps, the Cub likes Angel more than he likes the other girls in the neighborhood.
And, by likes, she meant likes. Like, likes, likes her! You know?
I feigned indifference and The Girl dropped the subject.
By then, the small seed of the worrywart plant had taken root in my heart however and, I became somewhat concerned. I mean, I reasoned to myself, this early experience could color the Cub’s entire love life; first crushes can be brutal. What if she’s just using him for his trampoline? What if she doesn’t return his feelings?
Oh my god, what if she does? He’s only eight!
So, I breathed into a paper bag for awhile, had a little sit and, I was fine. Really.
Some time after that though, The Cub and I were driving to the grocery store and I decided to address the topic. My intention was to keep the conversation light so as not to cause the boy any embarrassment, sparing his future therapist additional pause for concern over my parenting skills. I’m a forward thinker like that.
Chelle: So, Angel seems really nice.
Chelle: You two seem to get along well.
(So far, so good. Very subtle, way to go, Chelle!)
Chelle: You appear to share a lot of the same interests.
(Well, this is going nowhere…do I hear crickets?)
Chelle: She’s a good friend, huh?
Chelle: I think you like her.
Cub: Well, yeah.
Chelle: No. I think you like her. I think you liiiike her, you want to kiiiisss her. You want to squeeeeze her….
(Christ on a cracker, when did I start channeling Sandra Bullock?)
Cub: God, mom! We’re just friends. She’s in the third grade!
Chelle: Oh. Well…so? Your dad was in the second grade when I was in the third grade and that worked out just fine.
Cub: Squirrels must love you. You are nuts.
That went well, don’t you think?
Hey, at least I can stop worrying now; the Cub and Angel will just be friends even if he likes likes her.
You know, because dating an older woman would so wound his delicate pride.