Holding Hands

My 6-year-old daughter likes a boy at school. She's assured me repeatedly that she likes him just as her friend and is fully aware that she isn't allowed to like boys until she's 15-years-old (we've told her this countless times). Apparently, the little boy who is her "boy friend because he's a boy not because he's her boyfriend" is quite the stud in the afternoon kindergarten class. According to my daughter, girls are lining up to sit by him during story time and to play with him at recess.

This morning, she said, "Mom, I think you need to have a talk with Allie's mom." I asked her if she wanted me to call her because she wanted to have Allie over to play. She said that would be fine, but that I really needed to talk to Allie's mom about Allie's boy "problem."

"What exactly is Allie's 'boy problem'" I asked.

She put her hands on her hips and said, "Well, she likes him as her boyfriend. And not only that, Allie also holds his hand while we're singing songs. Except he doesn't even know it."

Two things that shocked me:
1) Why is the kindergartner holding a boy's hand?
And 2) How doesn't he know it?

I didn't say much about Allie's public displays of affection, but I did seize the moment and explain that touching boys wasn't cool. AT ALL. She can like them when she's 15. The touching can wait another 10 years.

Other thoughts: Kurt Cobain would have turned 40 on February 20. This news makes me feel old. How many Friday nights in college did I spend jumping around a mosh pit in the basement of some random fraternity house yelling, "I feel stupid and contagious! Here we are now ... entertain us!" Nirvana busted on to the music scene my senior year in high school, which of course seems like yesterday. Knowing that Kurt Cobain (sadly) isn't but could be 40-years-old ... yep, I'm feeling ancient.

Still reading and loving I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith. I expect to finish it tonight, and I can't wait to see how it ends. Will Cassandra realizes she loves Stephen? One can only hope.

Yesterday, I picked up Ten Days in the Hills by Jane Smiley. It starts the morning after the 2003 Oscars with a director in bed with his girlfriend Elena. They are discussing the Iraq war and his latest film idea. I could try to summarize the rest of the plot but wouldn't be able to do it justice. Amazon, and of course the book jacket, does a much better job of that. Anyway, I can't wait to officially start it. I read the first 20 pages last night and was hooked. Beautiful, vivid writing. And the cover might just be one of the most beautiful covers I've seen in years.

The Oscars are in a few days, and unlike past years, I haven't seen hardly any of the films. Perhaps I can squeeze a few in over the weekend. If everything goes as predicted, there won't be many surprises Sunday night. I would love an upset though. How great would it be to see Ryan Gosling win?

Oh, and apparently I'm giving up chocolate for Lent. This will be the hardest Lent sacrifice I've ever attempted. One day down. 39 more to go!