Those Little Wenches Had Better Not Break My Son's Heart

It's finally happened.

My first baby, my socially late-blooming older son, came home from school today talking about girls. Girls!  He never has before, at least not in this context.  I know it's about time...I distinctly remember having my first crush when I was right around his age, way back before the Earth cooled, but I'm just not ready to deal with boy-girl stuff with my kids yet.  Ugh.

The only redeeming feature is that, when I casually asked if there were any young ladies of particular interest, he mentioned two names that would suggest that he has good taste, at least--both are smart, beautiful and athletic, and one (the daughter of a very dear friend) is also as kind and thoughtful as they come.  I don't know the other as well.  My friend has two girls the same ages as my boys, and we've been joking for years that we don't care who marries whom as long as we end up in-laws when all is said and done!  Fortunately, we've had the sense to not mention that within earshot of the four of them, or innate perversity would dictate that they would choose ANYONE else.

Whomever he picks had damned well better be nice to him, and that's all I have to say.  Mama Bear has spoken.