I tried to deny it was happening. Not MY little girl. Not now. Not ever!
A lot of good it did me. Aside from having to deal with her natural "changes" (stemming from her new "ninnies" and the need for a bra to "public hair" and the fear of shaving--all her words by the by...) I think have been a good sport. Then came the first dance....with a boy. I have trouble even typing it.
Her costume this year was very pretty. She asked to wear lip gloss for the occasion. I had an extra tube..sure. Her dance was in the afternoon. The class was dismissed early,went to the gym to hang out while the teachers served as chaperons. Pretty benign.
I put her on the bus and all day Friday I watched my clock. I couldn't wait to get home...I couldn't wait for HER to get home. So she strolled in and flipped her hair giving me a smile that I could have sworn was ....coy.(WHERE does she GET this?) I gripped the chair and promptly sent Ben outside to walk the dog, ushering her into my office. ABBA was playing on my Rhapsody...hence the title.
"Spill it." I said with an excited smile. MY knees were knocking. I wanted her to tell me that she ignored the boy who asked her. I needed to hear that they were still yucky.
She flomped onto the couch and slouched. "What?" she almost whined.(So THIS is how it will go?) But she had this grin...she was enjoying the entire thing.
"Not what. Tell me~Was it fun? Did you dance with him? Did your friends dance? What were they dressed as for Halloween? What did HE go as?" and a whole host of other questions. My jaw was tired by the time I was through. It was almost painful. Here I was having to DRAG information from the girl who could recite the nutrition facts from almost every box of cereal that she's ever eaten! GEEZ! I was wounded that I had to now cope with her selective memory.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Weeeell, my friends were there and we ran around a lot. We played hide and seek and there were chips and stuff. The teachers dressed like the people in High School Musical. It was funny. A lot of the boys got in trouble because they were sliding on the floor in their socks and knocked stuff over...even a couple of kids! So-and so spilled a drink on Mr. Whats-his-face and this girl ripped her costume now she has nothing to wear for Trick or Treat. I felt bad for her. And "HE" was there of course." She adds this last but most important tid-bit casually. I swallowed the bait hungrily.
"And?" I felt my eyes double in size and heard my voice rise an octave.
"And what?" she laughed.
"You'd better quit. You know what I wanna know. C'mon." I felt her age and realized I was certainly acting it. Suddenly she flipped forward so we were forehead to forehead and she spilled it all. She told me everything, from sweaty hands to her first dance. She said they had a great time and despite all the rumors (some things never change...) that they were "going out" they were friends. That's all they wanted to be.
I sucked in my breath, held it and asked the big question: "Did he kiss you?"
She leaned in and our noses almost touched; very softly and seriously she said: "Mommy,no. I don't like him that way." She jiggled her head against mine. Her bangs shimmied. I couldn't help but giggle. So did she and I kissed her forehead. "I'm glad you had a good time Bunny." I hugged her. She was still my little girl; today.
"Can I keep this lip gloss Mommy?" she asked while applying it and making kissy face.
"Sure. But not for schoo..."
"Because there is this OTHER boy..."
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