C is my most favorite boy in the whole entire world. He is funny. He is sweet. He hugs me a lot and likes to snuggle. He tells me he loves me all the time. He is adorable. photo-8

See….adorable!! He is never going to be hateful to me. He is probably going to live with me forever and I am ok with that. If for some reason he does meet some hoochy and move away you can bet your butt I’ll be that creepy mom in the I’ll Love You Forever book. You know her, she drives across town and uses a ladder to climb in her grown son’s room to rock him to sleep. That will be me. Creepin around town with a ladder on my roof. I will not be ashamed. I’ll own my creepiness because C is my baby dammit.

The problem I’m having not with my beloved, sweet, innocent, loving C. The problem I’m having is with all the little evil girls in his pre-k class. Not even just the girls in his class….they are in OTHER classes too! WTF?!?! The other day a girl in another class saw him and she stopped to give him a lingering gaze before she entered her classroom. THE NERVE! Where are the father’s to these out of control girls? What do they think this is? The Bachelor? There are no roses here ladies so step off! Back it up! MOVE ALONG! Ok let me back up a step. Clearly my emotions are starting to take over my fingers.

C is a ladies man. He wraps women around his cute little fingers. He has since he was a baby. He has white hair, not blonde but an eye catching white, big blue eyes, an adorable smile and he’s a charmer. He will talk to any lady who smiles at him. My husband LOVES it. He thinks he’s like some sort of alpha male who has created a little mini me to get him chicks or something. He takes great pride in Cooper’s ability to have women wanting to squeeze his little cheeks. I don’t get it. Here you can see Kevin intently listening to C running down the game plan on how to get the check out ladies digits as we walk into Target. photo-9

 

For a while now there have been several little girls who are always like, “hiiiiiiiiiiii C!” every morning. Even single damn morning. Shouldn’t they be learning to write or read or learn colors or something? They run to give him hugs hello and goodbye. I’ve given them my evil eye many times but it is like they are immune to it or something. I may or may not be known to instantly scoop him up when I see a little 4 year old girl running towards him with open arms. Ok…..ok…..the little girls are cute. I recently read that poll results showed that 4.5 is the age people think children are the cutest. So it is like practically a scientific fact the girls are cute. If they weren’t I’d probably feel different. Ok, who am I kidding? I would NOT feel different no matter if they were cute or not. WHY ARE THEY HUGGING MY BABY!?!?!?!

::::breathing deeply:::::

So, about two weeks ago Kevin and I were picking C up from school. One little girl ran up to give him a picture of a butterfly she made “just for you C”. Another little girl ran up, elbow checked that little girl out of the way, yelled “OH NO YOU DIDN’T JUST GIVE C A PICTURE”, then gave C a picture with even MORE butterflies. Well maybe the elbow check didn’t happen and the words may have only been said in my head but the glare between the girls were there. That shit was for reals. You could cut the girl hating tension with a knife. I was trying to rescue my precious baby from these evil little girls while Kevin was puffing up like an effin peacock with pride that C already has girls fighting over him in Pre-K. There was evil eyes being thrown but it was from me to my husband. It is like he doesn’t see that these girls are trying to STEAL my baby!

I even bought C this shirt as a warning to all these evil little 4 year old girls. I figured it was a little passive aggressive but I’m not above that. 529489_10200451767037544_1667586616_nThe problem is 4 year old girls don’t know how to read (which is clearly because they are too busy hugging my baby instead of learning to read) so the shirt just really only served to make me feel like I was putting on some sort of girl repellant when I got him dressed.

Yesterday, February 11, 2013, is a day I will never forget. It is the darkest day in history. It will be etched in my brain for the rest of my life. Here is how it went down:

Kevin and I were walking out the school door after picking up C. Emma was being picked up by her dad. She was across the parking lot, almost in the car when she saw C. She yelled loudly, “Goodbye C!” while smiling and waving at him. C yelled, “Goodbye Emma! I love you.” OMG! Oh……..my………God. I died. I DIED. I’m dying again typing this. My heart stopped. I couldn’t breath. I had to stop, bend over and put my head between my legs. Where was Kevin while I was about to pass out from heartbreak? Beaming with pride while giving high fives to C, who was asking Emma’s dad for her phone number and if he could have her hand in marriage (cause he’s a gentleman!). That is what they were doing in my head. I was too busy dying of a broken heart and trying to not hyperventilate in the school parking lot to see what they were actually doing but I am pretty sure it was what I described. When I finally got control over my body Kevin and C were already at the car! My heart was ripped out of my body and smashed to smithereens by some obnoxiously cute brown haired little girl in a dress. WTF yo?! W…T….F?

It has been over 24 hours and my heart is still not healed. I may need a barrel of tequila and a straw in the shape of glasses to get me through the night. When I’m well enough I will have to have a conversation with C. The serious kind. It will be about how girls have cooties and that if he even looks at them, let alone hugs them, he will get cooties too. And EVERYONE knows that you can’t get rid of cooties. Having cooties means no more M&M’s and you can’t watch Scooby Doo. He’d be very, very sad if he got cooties and had to give those things up so maybe he should just NEVER look, touch, or speak to another girl for a very long time.

This is my ‘The hoochies in classroom 101 corrupted my innocent baby boy’ emergency kit. photo-10

 

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