I think, every once in a while for parents it just hits you that your kids are growing up. And I love that. I love every second of it.
This weekend we went to a violin workshop. After the play in (an informal concert where anyone who can play the chosen song just gets up and plays) my daughter asked me if I had seen the boy on the end.
"He was so hot," she said.
Now there is a sentence I've never heard her utter before. She's liked boys before, but usually boys she's known for years and who are nice to her in some way. This was the first time she had signaled one out on looks alone.
But I was a bit worried. If I recalled correctly, the boy on the end was about 17 or 18, had a shaved head, goatee and tattoos. If her taste is swinging that way, I should probably put my husband in anger management classes now.
So at the last concert I asked her to point out this "hot" boy to me.
She pointed out the most angelic, baby-faced twelve-year-old ever to grace the Earth. He was actually very cute, almost pretty. And I breathed a huge sigh of relief!
You know, I was thinking about it. She's never gotten into actors or singers before. She scoffs at all things Jonas. But she has had what one might consider "celebrity crushes" on violinists she's seen perform live.
She's actually gotten to have master classes with a couple of those violinists. For her that would be like having a singing lesson with Justin B-whatever-his-name-is. Except these guys really can play the violin.
Ultimately, I'm glad she's comfortable enough with me to share her "hot" ratings. And I'm even more grateful she doesn't share my taste in men.