Telling the kiddos

I was all good after Thursday, and it was time to bring my kiddos into it. I have a family of seven that I'm an Auntie for (well, the oldest just puts up with me, but the rest--5 girls and a boy--we're pretty close). I take them on dates, and they let me crash at their place after church, get them addicted to TV shows, show them old movie musicals, make smoked gouda mac & cheese, have dance parties, and sit with them at church so I'm not all by my lonesome. I adore them, and I am pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

Any way, I had told them a little bit on the previous Sunday (little T was the gasping eight-year-old), and now I figured I should tell a little more. So I crashed after work. And then I blushed a lot. I told them all the little stories that preceded this post. And they ate it up. 

"Do you love him?!?" Over-eager, incorrigible M gushed, clasping her fingers sweetly under her chin and batting her eyelashes. 

"No," I said, very honestly at the time. "I love you, and H, and P," I continued, as people's heads started popping up all over the room and from around doorways, "and T, and R, and L, and your Mom, but I don't know him well enough yet. It's too early. It's barely been. . . okay, so today it's been a month--exactly."

"Well, I think he loves you!" She declared with the confidence of eleven, "I think he knew right away. You're just going to have to figure it out. You have a boyfriend!"

Side note: Yes, it is our birthday today. So, Happy Birthday to someone who has brought me a lot of happiness, and yes, love, this year--and, hopefully, for this next one, too.