The first of many

Your teacher Amanda informed me recently that you have a boyfriend, and I was startled.

The conversation came about when I asked her, "Who is Emmett?" because every day when I pick you up and strap you in your car seat, you chatter through a list of goodbyes to your favorite people.  Recently added was, "Bye bye, Emmett!"

She told me the two of you like to stand in the middle of the room and hug each other and to play dress up together and both wear dresses.  He is also apparently an enthusiastic hokey-pokier like you are, and caused you a minor injury when he fell on you during a particularly interactive version the two of you came up with.  I had to admit, he sounded like your kind of man.

Soon after my conversation with Miss Amanda, I dropped you off at daycare and found the reception you got to be so sweet.  Your best friend, Madison, immediately joined your side.  She had on pink cowgirl boots and was carrying an oversized Minnie Mouse shopping bag.  Emmett spotted you and ran up to hug you.  Then the three of you trotted over to the corner of the room with all the dress up costume trunks.  I guess Madison and Emmett are, like, your homies.  You're the three little class theater geeks together.  I'm pretty sure I didn't have a posse at that age.

Things seemed nice for a few days--I even got to meet Emmett's dad and hear how much Emmett talked about YOU--but of late there has been trouble in paradise.  You and Emmett may have broken up.

Two mornings ago you ran up to hug him when you arrived at daycare, and his reception was lukewarm.  By the end of the day when I picked you up, he had his arm around another girl.  He gazed at us solemnly as we prepared to leave.  I found myself surprisingly defensive of you.  Of you in your first relationship with another toddler.  I want to tell him to stay home with his mama, cause you're too good for him and you'll find another hokey pokey partner.



  Sophie and her boyfriend Emmett may have broken up. Yesterday she ran to hug him good morning like normal, and his reception was lukewarm. By yesterday evening when I picked her up, he had his arm around another girl and gazed at us solemnly as we prepared to leave. This morning when I saw him I felt grumpy: She's too good for you anyway, punk!