The other day while walking home from school, The Love Magnet waved to a boy.
"Hi, J!", she yelled enthusiastically. J waved back.
"Who was that?", I asked
"Oh, that J. He my husband."
I wasn't sure if I heard that one right. The Love Magnet is know for garbling speech now and then. I tried to play it cool. "He is what?"
"He my husband." TLM was trying hard to be patient with me.
"Sweetie, you are not married. You are 7 years old." Where on earth did she learn the context of the word husband?!! Surely she doesn't understand the definition.
"Moooom! I am married. He. My. HUSBAND!" TLM's patience was gone. I was now getting a lecture in her very best Let's-imitate-Mom-when-she's-exasperated voice. (This is one of the reasons Heavenly Father sent TLM to me. To show me exactly how I sound to my kids. It's usually humbling. Not today....)
"Sweetheart, you have to be old to be married. Old like me." Normally I wouldn't call myself old, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
"Mom, I grow up now. I tall." My daughter apparently believed that settled matters.
I left the conversation alone, hoping that she would forget about it. She did not mention for the rest of the day.
How on earth am I going to handle it when she turns 16 and wants to date and drive?