Thursday, September 2, 2010
He's only 5.
He's only in kindergarten.
Yet, a few days ago, Rye had a note.
From a girl.
I saw him smirking in the backseat after I picked him up from school.
"What are you smiling about?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said, and quickly pretended like he hadn't been staring at the small piece of paper in his hands. In fact, he tried hiding that piece of paper, as if I hadn't already seen it.
I couldn't see what it said, though, and this really got me. Oh, how I wanted to see what was on that tiny rectangle!
I let it go, though. I'm trying to realize that my kids are their own people and they are allowed to have feelings (and all sorts of other things) that they don't have to share with Mommy.
I didn't say I like this very much, but I do realize it's the case.
Later that night, after dinner, Rye was lounging in the living room, watching a movie. I noticed he was holding onto the same small piece of paper.
My curiosity got the best of me.
I pretended to be cleaning up the living room. Really, I just wanted to see what was so important about that note.
On one side, someone had drawn stars and smiley faces. On the other side, someone had colored and written her name:
And I bit my tongue.
Even though I desperately want to know who Chloe is (and what her parents do, if she has blonde hair like Mommy and how this relationship began - recess? gym? hand holding during story time?), I let it go.
I chose instead to be happy for my little boy, that he had a new friend who liked him well enough to draw him a picture.
A picture that made him happy.
Isn't that what we all want ultimately? Happy kids?
Right now, it's enough for me.