Ringing

Since the school bus arrived at 3:15, my doorbell hasn't stopped ringing. Bub has a little neighbor friend who seems to like me as much as she likes him. I'm upstairs trying to get some work done while simultaneously blog lurking, and she has rung the bell ask for fruit snacks, to show me some pennies she found, and to tell me how her dad misused her toothbrush once. A few minutes ago, she rang the bell with this complaint:

"Um, Mom -- Your son just told me he was in love with me."

"Well, that's OK, isn't it?" I asked, "You guys are friends." Despite my reassurance, she seemed genuinely upset. What in the world should I do? I wanted to make her understand that though you're seven now and a little boy saying he's in love with you makes you feel weird, you'll feel equally weird in a few years when he doesn't say it. I wanted to point out that he wasn't waiting for an acceptance to a marriage proposal -- he was trying to pop wheelies on his scooter, so no harm done. I wanted to praise him for communicating his emotions.

What I ended up doing is telling her he loves her because she's his friend, and that's ok. I told him it was good of him to tell her how he feels, but saying that he was "in love" with her made her feel uncomfortable, so maybe not say it again soon. I swear, there should be a handbook for this child rearing business.