It’s normal that children keep secrets from parents. It’s part of being independent and judicious about one’s personal space.
My husband found the bracelet the boy gave Rosie last week. It was a rather nice trinket with mother of pearl heart. It was in a box at the bottom of her backpack. He went to clear out the ridiculous amount of books weighing the backpack down in order to fit in her lunch box. He neatly laid out all the unnecessary items on her desk. But with the typical rush of pre-bus stop hustle Rosie threw the bracelet back in. Her Dad did not have a chance to inquire about it, seeing he was practicing vocabulary words with Adele.
Oh well.
Rosie and I did take the dog for a long walk yesterday. It was a cold November morning, but the light was luminous off the yellow maple leaves scattered along the edges of the field. It was the first day we had hats and scarves on, marking a new season. She was quite the chatterbox, commenting on just about anything: Who got straight As and who got the A minuses. I told her that it seemed this year her teacher is an easy grader, unlike last year. “Well, Madame S said that next semester that the conduct grades won’t be so easy to get. She was talking to the boys, really.”
Then she said that it’s not easy for Steven and Jake to cross their legs like girls do. “’Well, it’s not really a good habit for girls to have, either,” I noted. “Well, it’s fine for me because I just switch,” she said matter of fact.
Funny, what comes up in a conversation.
But the mention of boys did allow an opening. I asked about the boy who seems to like her, the one who gave her a pink teddy bear for Valentines Day last year – in third grade. “I don’t like boys, Mom,” she said emphatically. “Well, it’s OK if you do,” I allowed. “Besides there was that whole double date thing at the sock hop, so what was that about?” Then she told me how her girlfriend was freaked out when mother asked her if she kissed the boy. “Well, I can understand her mom’s curiosity. After all, these boys are giving gifts and they are only 10 years old.” I did not mention the bracelet. I figured the mention of the pink teddy bear kept me – and her – in the clear on that account.
“How do you think they get the gifts?” I asked. “Do you think their mom or dad goes to the store with them? I mean I know when you buy something. Or, maybe the boys have older sibs that do it for them?”
“Well, they do have older brothers and sisters,” Rosie went on, telling me who was who in these boys’ family constellations. “I’m just not really into boys right now,” she declared.
“Well, that’s fine by me, but you know as you get older and go to middle school, you’ll see this boy-girl stuff will be a bigger deal. You can talk to me or Dad about any of it… we were your age once, too, you know.”
Rosie began to skip and spin, showing of some figure skating moves, as the leaves crunched under her landing thump. “What?” she implored.
Nothing, my look retorted. “What a glorious morning, isn’t it?”
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