Papa is working late tonight. The girls are in their pjs and we’re getting ready to watch “American Idol” together. We have some popcorn, too. I’m looking forward to hanging out with them for an hour and listen to them critique this season’s 13 finalists. I’m fairly certain that almost all of the contestants are going to choose horrible songs to sing, which should make the evening pretty amusing.
On another note, Sophie is a big flirt, and at the ripe old age of five, she apparently has a coterie of boys who either want to kiss her or marry her. When she told me about her suitors the other day she could barely contain her glee and her pride. She’s only five. We’re so in trouble. So in trouble.
And let’s face it – we’re in completely new territory here. Chloe never had this problem. So we never had to deal with it. And now we’re finding ourselves making sure that Sophie understands there’s no kissing allowed. Unless it’s her Papa, Chloe, Grammy, other family members, her babysitters or me. Can you imagine the sex talk we’re going to need to have with her in a few years? Shoot me now.