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Smooth Operator

Smooth Operator

My three-year-old, Miss A, doesn’t have a shy bone in her body. Last Halloween, when she was barely two and a half, while most of her friends were struggling to master the “Trick or Treat” chant without getting tongue tied, she charged ahead of all of us, her stuffed kitty tail wagging behind her, toward the first house of the evening. The grandmotherly woman who came to the door greeted her with a bowl of candy and a big smile. Miss A smiled back and without hesitation looked up at her and said, “Hi, I’m Miss A. What’s your name?” For a few seconds I had visions of her as a politician, but I digress.

It hasn’t been too surprising, then, that Miss A has recently started with the love talk when provoked by her big sister. You know the silly “Do you have a boyfriend?” teasing which always elicits responses like “Ohhh Miss A is in looooove. She’s gonna get married. Ewww” from Miss C.

Miss A’s first love interest was Danny with the Red Hair (not to be confused with the other Danny in her class.) Now apparently she has set her sights on Michael, an older man in the four-year-olds’ class whom she met on the playground. The hubby was dropping her off one morning last week and her class was already outside. Miss A took the hubby’s hand and led him straight to a little blonde haired boy and said, “Daddy, that’s Michael!” Michael didn’t say anything in return, but instead immediately ran away. Maybe he’s not used to younger women being so forward.

The hubby came home that night to tell me all this and said, “I’m so screwed. My three-year-old daughter just introduced me to her boyfriend.”

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