To Have A Little Girl Is To Have A Friend For Life, But Boys ... Boys Are For Falling In Love All Over Again
Friday night we were sitting at the dinner table and somehow the topic came up of how much God loves us. Sissy, getting the importance of the moment immediately - in that precognizant womanly way - , started jumping up and down saying, "I know, I know and I am four years old and I love God the most in the whole wide world, too!!"
Buddy, not to be outdone in the something-important-is-going-on-department, looked up from his chair next to me and said at the top of his little lungs, "And I am three, Mama, and I love all the girls in the world the most!!"
My husband looked stunned and speechless, and me? I couldn't pull my head up off the table from laughing.
Then yesterday, for some reason known only to God and not me, Buddy was looking at a J.Crew catalogue. He was pouring over each page with great interest. I was sitting on the couch also looking at magazines (obviously ones of higher intellectual pursuit - like the Athleta catalogue) and was very aware of what he was doing. I was contemplating what I would say almost any second as he got nearer and nearer to the underwear/swimsuit/pelvic bones section.
He was studying one page in particular with a very leggy blond in cropped shorts.
"Mama," he said, turning to me with those innocent baby blues, "Is this you?"
With absolutely no forethought I said, "Yes." Obviously.
He turned the page. Same model, different outfit, next to a brunette leggy model. Pointing to the blond again he asked, "Is this you, too?"
This time, with the chance for premeditation, the thought was crossing my mind that to my knowledge I had never lied to my son. And that maybe this was only funny in its oh-so-obvious falsehood to me. And it was also coming clear to me that the time I was choosing to lie, was about the fact that I was a model in a J.Crew magazine. Who not only looked nothing even remotely like any relation of mine, but who was also a model in a J.Crew magazine. Was this really worth it?
"Yes," I answered again. No question or qualm in my voice.
Looking at the brunette next to her he asked, "Is that Julie? " (A close friend of mine.)
"No," I said, not wanting to lie.
"No, I mean L and J's mommy," he said, in case I didn't know who Julie was.
"Nope. That's not her." (I was darned if I would share my fake spotlight with someone real.)
"Well," he asked, suspicious now, because obviously that was Julie, "why are you in the magazine?"
"Because she's hot!", my accomplice yelled from the kitchen.
A few moments later Buddy was seated at the head of the dining room table eating his PBJ. "Mama," he looked up, cocking his head and planting his chin on his palm, "Why are you in those magazines?"
Starting to feel the slight twinge of nausea that maybe it wasn't okay to lie to one so innocent and trusting I deflected. "Buddy," I asked, "Why would you think I would be in the magazine?"
Looking me straight in the eyes with the profound wisdom of the very young he said, "Because you are so, so, so beautiful."
And that is the reason why to this day I will go down fighting for the fact that there are times where it is entirely appropriate to lie to your toddler son. When it's precipitated by statements of love for all womankind, all the better.