not not not

OK.

breathe with me.

hold my hand. please hold my hand.

it’s not a date. it’s NOT a date. it isn’t a date....is it??

my eighth-grade daughter came home from the boy scout family camping weekend with stars in her eyes. wearing someone else’s hat. not responding to any teasing about “her new boyfriend.” and hadn’t responded in any way all weekend long. oh, my.

she showered and changed into in cards-wear, brushed her hair out long and didn’t put it into her signature ponytail. and then we painted her nails cardinal red and i put teeny tiny C-A-R-D-S on her nails in white. she is right this minute at the home of a fellow scout-mom. a boy-scout mom. wait, i have it wrong. she is at the grandmother’s house of a boy scout. he, the boy-scout, wanted to invite my baby girl to a family gathering “to introduce her.”

please tell me it’s not a date.

please.