Driving Kiss Daisy

Stella has really gotten into kissing.  Given that she’s only just 4 years old, I’m totally unprepared for this.  A couple of times recently when I’ve picked her up from school, I’ve gotten reports from her teacher that she and one little boy are a bit too affectionate.  Just the other day I witnessed it directly.  The teacher does what she ought to:  no shaming or anything, just a rather firm suggestion that they keep contact to “buddy hugs.”

Now don’t get all in a twist; we’re not talking slipping of the tongue or anything like that – just very enthusiastic pecking on the mouth, particularly after licking our lips. (God kids are nasty)

Other than the cute little boy at school, her choices for recipients of her affection are quite peculiar.  A few days ago it was Lightning McQueen.  Felix has a large plastic version which speaks when you push the button on the top.  For 2 days and nights, McQueen got to sit by her at dinner, on the couch, and almost made it into bed until that was vetoed due to the rather rigid and uncomfortable nature of hard plastic.  They had fascinating conversations, punctuated with plenty of kisses.

Yesterday, she started showering “Silver” with kind words and kisses.  “Silver” is what she calls my car.  Seriously?  Kissing my vehicle?

The strangest, however, has got to be A and B.  A and B are just that: letters pulled from that wretched foam alphabet “rug” on the kids’ bedroom floor. (Note to new parents: do yourselves a favor and resist this urge.  Sure, they’re cute, educational, inexpensive and easy to clean.  But you WILL BE PICKING THAT SHIT UP FOR YEARS, EVERY DAY.  It’s a big puzzle.  Children can’t help but to disassemble it on a daily basis.  It will drive you quite nuts.)  A and B have joined her for 3 meals now.  They discuss what foods they enjoy.  A and B get kisses.  I just don’t get this.

I’m prepared for the ultimate inevitability that at least one if not both of my children will bring home a date that I might not be crazy for.  This is pushing my limits in a strange way, however.  I’ve heard of imaginary friends, but this seems even more bizarre. Any ideas?  Anyone?


About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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