I fear that my husband's fervent hopes that my daughter won't turn out to be just like me (after all, he knows I had sex as a teenager) are about to be crushed.
At school she writes in a journal every day. Yesterday the teacher advised them to write about Valentine's Day and who they love. I'm sure girl after girl wrote about her daddy. Or at least her mother, siblings, relatives or friends. Not my girl.
"Who did you write about, sweetheart?"
"Michael Ledbottom."
Michael is a boy in her class.
Apparently, she is quite popular with the boys. As she was writing out her little Valentine cards last night she told me, "I know all the boys' personalities. All the boys like me, you know. Even Brian. He loves me. But he won't admit it. And Sebastian loves me too. He gets in trouble all the time trying to get my attention. He got sent to the principal's office five times yesterday! I don't know why he acts out to try and impress me. I'm not impressed. I should tell him that. 'You don't impress me, you know.' Then maybe he wouldn't get in trouble so much."
Let's see. She writes everyday. She loves the boys and they love her back. She's more long-winded then a preacher on the pulpit. Add in her sweet concern for our faraway friends and yes. I think Little Tuna Girl is only a year or two away.
Won't Daddy be proud?
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