He’s Hot

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“He’s hot”, my 7 year old said as a tweenager passed our table.

Pizza still in my mouth, mid-chew, I looked at her, and scanned the vicinity for the boy who passed too quickly. 

She’s 7 going on 18, and I could see the goofy, whimsical smile cross her face as she taunted Lloyd and I.

We all laughed, and I turned in my chair to say “she thinks you’re hot” to the boy no longer behind us.

Sayler’s face flushed pink, quickly turning around, herself now mid-chew as she prepared to face her embarrassment.

Alas, she was safe... for now.

When did my young daughter start saying boys were “hot”? Was it as her second top tooth fell out? Was it when we were finishing up her 2nd grade year-end Ruby Bridges presentation? Perhaps as her toes pushed out of her cleats, now somewhere between size 12-12.5.

My brazen, sometimes shy, clever and wickedly funny daughter thinks boys are “hot” and I may just about die.

Die laughing, but nonetheless, death ya’ll.








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