Kindergarten breakups can be tough
The Patterson home was filled with chatter this week as we prepared for Valentine’s Day.
My husband Jason sneaked around getting presents and other tokens of love.
Our daughter Elsie tried to steal every piece of candy she found, even though I had a secret stash especially for her.
And our son James helped with all the necessary preparations for his party at school.
He was very excited all week about the party that would be held with his classmates last Thursday. From packing goody bags with treats to filling out Valentine cards to making cupcakes with Momma and Little Sister, James was all about the “day of love” this week.
And his little mind is starting to get more curious about the emotion of love, romance and all that comes with it.
“What does breaking up mean,” he asked, as we made our goody bags for school.
I shot Jason a look across the table. I wanted to smirk, and Jason was already making a face.
“Why,” I asked, grabbing another chocolate heart. “Did somebody break up with you?”
Apparently, a little girl in James’ class “broke up” with another little boy. I’m sure it was a very difficult experience for the five-year-old lovebirds.
Jason and I laughed a little as we explained to him what it meant. I think he was more confused than when we started.
“I’m learning all about the gossip of a kindergarten classroom,” I told Jason, as James made his way to his room.
And just last week James asked me about the woes of a broken heart.
We were listening to a song about a man who was down on his luck because his true love ended the relationship. It was a typical “my lady left me and my dog died” tune. The main line of the chorus was even “I would be sad because you left me all alone.”
That got the wheels in James’ head turning.
“Momma, is he serious,” James asked. “Is he really that sad.”
“I guess so,” I responded, looking in the rear view mirror at him. “His girlfriend left him, and he really is sad about it.”
“Why doesn’t he just follow her,” he asked.
I smirked as I explained to him how it usually doesn’t work that way.
Being a mother and extra nosey, I playfully asked James if he had his own girlfriend yet. It seemed like the perfect time to ask.
“No,” he said, looking out of the window. “I ain’t got time for all that.”
It took all I had not to erupt into a fit of laughter.
“You will change your mind about that one day,” I said.
It struck me as kind of cute how James is starting to wonder about “romance,” and apparently how he “doesn’t have time for it.”
When I was a little girl, I had a different crush every week or so. And half the time, the boys were more interested in bugs, slime and other gross things. They really didn’t have time for us girls, and we never could figure out why.
And then I became a teenager, and it was a whole different ball game. Boys began to think about girls constantly. It was always girls and gasoline.
For now, James isn’t too worried about it. He has hunting, fishing, rough housing with his Dad and other things to worry about.
And during those occasional times when he snuggles with me as we watch television, he doesn’t have a clue that he already holds one girl’s heart in the palm of his hand.
Jamie Patterson is the managing editor of The Yazoo Herald.