So Lil' Bro says to me this week, "Mom guess what." "What?" says I. "I have a girlfriend at school," he says, all crinkly faced with glee and embarrassment. "Oh really..." says me who is now channeling the mom from Adam Sandler's 'The Waterboy'. "Well cool," I say nonchalantly, so as not to add any undue importance or excitement to what is and should be a very sweet and innocent thing. Pokemon Boy isn't so cool about it. He's eight. Girls, he has found, give you kooties.
"Really? You have a girlfriend at school?" he asks incredulously. "Yup," beams Lil' Bro. I exchange a look with Pokemon Boy that warns, Don't mess with him on this subject. He gives me a nod of understanding and continues in an overly interested tone, "So what's her name?" Lil' Bro says, "[PreSchoolGirl]." "What color hair does she have," inquires Pokemon Boy. He is a fan of long straight dark hair (that's my boy!). "Blond, I think." Men, I think jokingly to myself. Can't even remember the color of their girlfriend's hair.
"So you don't mind being her boyfriend?" asks the kootie-phobic 3rd grader. "No," says Lil' Bro. "But also," he continues, "[OtherBoy] likes her, too." "Oh," I say, preparing for a preschool version of heart break. "And is that ok with you?" "Yah. We share her," he informs me. "You share her? Does [PreSchoolGirl] know this?" "Yah." "And she's ok with this?" "Yah." "Ok then."
I think preschoolers "date" way better than adults. You declare your affection. Label yourself as "boyfriend" or "girlfriend". Share when necessary. And that's it. Nothing else. Just play together and tell people you have a girlfriend. If only we were that smart.