Everyone Deserves to Have a Great Redhead in Their Past, Present or Future

My youngest is eight. Eight years old and he's suddenly interested in relationships.

Maybe it's because his sister has a new flame.

Or, maybe it's because he does.

"Are you happy in your relationship," he casually asked his sister tonight. At 14, it either takes very little or a helluva lot to make her happy. But, fortunately for all of us, she said that she indeed was very happy.

The question was casual. Little Me is a male after all. He nonchalantly asked the question while he was on his way to the bathroom. I might add, that in itself is a sign that he's well on the way to being a man. Asking a loaded question while walking out of the room to take a nice long pee. Impressive.

He called over his shoulder as he entered his throne room, "It took me three years but I finally got one."

He got "one" all right.

Just over a week ago, he burst through the doors as we were leaving the after school care area. "I have a girlfriend," he gushed.

I smiled. Not so much in happiness (as he thought) but in amusement.

Now my boy has always loved him some blondes. In fact, there was a time that he said that the only brown haired girl he had a liking for was his old worn-out mom. He had a penchant for blondes that were more aptly described as having white hair. You could spot them a mile away. Blondes with little bird like faces. Their details so fine and pointed that you checked to see if they had hands or claws. Tack on a huge bow as big as their head and you would have Little Me's perfect girl.

Imagine my surprise when I asked what she looked like. "Is she blonde," I asked, already knowing the answer.


"She's a red head."


No. Gasp!

I burst out laughing. His first real girlfriend and the boy gets a redhead. No. My boy isn't ready for this. This is going to be entertaining.

On the way home, he showed his usual "reasonability" that is so unusual in the Smithsonian Institution. "We're not really boyfriend and girlfriend," he explained. "She asked me and we agreed to think about it over the weekend and decide on Monday."

Monday came. The decision was made. He's now a taken man.

He now has his first "girlfriend." Which is odd to say since the boy has been girl-crazy since he was born and has never lacked for a pack of tiny female fans. (No, his Momma has never really been fond of that but she is trying to learn to let go a little along the way) It is also odd to have a child that can't seem to ring the toilet but can lure in a chick. I decided a few months ago to just let that go. Perhaps it will be that redheaded girl's problem one day. Some other woman's to be sure. I've decided that the ability to pee in a toilet, while juggling a 20-pound purse slung across your shoulder and a squirming one-year-old on your hip while teetering high atop a public toilet seat to be a superhuman ability that can only be displayed with the proper amount of estrogen coursing through your veins. But, I digress.

I did find it to be a slight let down that I can't taunt him with the saying "Red on the head. Fire in the hole." Truth be told, I never really understood what that meant. I just liked the sound of it.

But, everyone deserves to have a great redhead in their past, present or future. Most redheads are the kind of people you'll never forget -- whether that be for the better or for the worse.

So, dear redheaded little girl. Be kind to my boy. He's got a tender, loving heart and his Momma isn't ready to help glue it back together yet.

And, if you're not...well...I'm not afraid to break your crayons and spit in your glue when no one is looking. Just sayin'.

4 comments:

  1. Trust me, I got to find out what fire in the hole was all about. Good memories...:-D

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    1. Jeepers! I tried to pour Scope in my ear to disinfect my brain from that mental image. All I got was minty fresh fire in the hole for the effort.

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  2. For the love of all things holy, steer him back to the blondes!

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