
I picked him up from school this afternoon and following is our conversation:
"Hey, babe. How was your day?" I inquired.
"Good. Some girl in second grade asked me out today," he replied.

"She asked me out," he replied nonchalantly.
"What did you say to her?" I asked. Please, God, please don't let him already be interested in girls, I pleaded silently.
"Well, I never talked to her because she sent one of her sidekicks to do her dirty work. Her sidekicks are always chasing me and Wyn around on the playground and we have to hide from them at lunch," he answered. And yes, he really used the word sidekick to describe this smitten little girl's faithful friend.

"And that was it?" I asked.
"Yes, Mom, I'm too young to date. I'm only eight," he answered.
Amen, baby boy, amen.