Last night was the art show at Ms. B.’s school. (No, it’s not one of those events. I actually love going to this one, and this year’s was particularly good). As we pulled in to the school parking lot Ms. B’s cell phone rang. She answered and I could hear girlish squeals and laughter radiating from the ear piece. “Um…. okaaaay.” was all Ms. B. said before hanging up.
“What was that?” I asked.
“They said, ‘ohmyGodohmyGodohmyGod. When you get here you have to find G____. He has something he HAS to tell you.”
As we got out of the car I looked up to see G_____ himself sprinting from the school building. “They were lying!” He said as he ran up to us, completely out of breath. “I don’t have anything to tell you! They were lying.” Ms. B., bizarrely, accepted this explanation without question. Maybe this isn’t bizarre. They’re twelve.
I don’t think poor G____ ever caught his breath because he spent the next thirty minutes walking around the school with Ms. B., Peanut and me, talking 8,000 words per minute.
“Um, G____, do you think you had too much sugar today?” was all Ms. B. said to him the entire evening. She kept turning to me and giving me looks that said, “This kid is nuts!” I just bit the inside of my cheek and tried not to cry from laughter because it didn’t take too much adult perspective to see that G____ has it bad.
When Ms. B. and I were safely back in our car at the end of the night I casually said, “Soooo… G____’s nice.”
B (cautious): Yeah….
Me: Think he likes you?
B: What?! No.
Me: Um, yes.
B: Um, no.
Me: Here’s a tip. A boy your age does not spend that much time talking to you if he doesn’t like you at least a little bit. He certainly doesn’t talk about how cute your baby sister is, and he REALLY doesn’t do it around your mother.
B: G____’s just a good friend.
Me: I’m just sayin’… something to think about.
I’m not sure I’m ready for this whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing, even though I also recognize that it’s inevitable. But at an age where being boyfriend and girlfriend means you spend an inordinate amount of time hiding behind the backs of your friends and trying to avoid seeing each other, I have to respect a kid who is willing to actually spend thirty minutes talking to my daughter in my presence. Plus, he made me laugh, which gives him a check mark of temporary approval in my book. G____’s short, which means unfortunately he may not stand a chance with Ms. B., but I’m kinda rooting for the kid.