...Not gross like the other boys...

Pete is 12 now. A fantastic age, if you ask me. Lots of great things happening. You start getting the adult's jokes for one thing. Those snide references are no longer lost on you, you get to chuckle along, or fume along if said reference is directed your way.

She and I stopped a that place that invented the chicken sammich to get a chicken biscuit the other morning. All of a sudden she starts grinning from ear to ear- real big like as Junie B. Jones says- and ducks behind me. Of course, being the Nosy Parker that I am, I look around to see what's got her attention.


And.... it's a BOY! A real live BOY!

And that boy has a big, ear splitting grin on his face and is turning a nice shade of pink....

Much ducking and smiling go on, coupled with,
"Come on, Mom! Hurry up!" and "Stop talking" and the grinning of course.

I get her outside and ask her if he's sweet... "No...Yes...shutup" is the reply. Then she says, "He's not gross like the other boys"

Oh boy, here we go.....