Mini Date

Cute little fella, isn't he? My taste usually lies with tall, dark and handsome sorts-- but this short, blonde and adorable kid is exactly my type. He and I ventured out on a date today.

Mister turns 4 this week, and I felt the occasion warranted a special outing. So I called his mom and set up arrangements for the afternoon. I even wore a dress. A dress! After all, a dress is appropriate for the first date with a good-looking guy. (Go ahead and stick with sweats if you'd prefer not to see the gentleman again-- or if your first date is to the gym....)

I picked Mister up and my sister met me at the door.

"Did you get all dressed up just for Mister?" She asked.

"Yep."

"Mister-- what do you say?"

"Thank you."

Uh, you're welcome? In Mister's defense, the question "what do you say?" is almost always a mom's prompt for gratitude. But my sister nudged him, suggesting a different response instead.

"Oh! You look beautiful!"

After putting his carseat in my car (I've never dated a guy who had to sit in a harness in the backseat) and reminding her little man to act like a gentleman, my sister bade us farewell.

Our conversation was...interesting.

"Do you like having your sister gone at school all day, or do you miss her?"

"I like having her gone."

"You know what? When I was little I liked it when your mom went to school and I got to stay home, too."

"I remember that! Even though I wasn't born, I remember."

"Ohhhhhhh."

"Hey Lindsay, why are you always impressed?"

"Impressed?"

"Yeah. You're always impressed."

This question threw me for a loop. I think I'm going to ask an adult why they're always impressed so I can find out how to answer that one.

Hey Susie, why are you always impressed? I'd really like to know.

We arrived at Starbucks and I informed my date he could order anything he wanted.

"Do they have pink milk?"

"Yes!"

"I want pink milk and a pink cake pop."

So that's what he got. (Well, actually, he got 2 pink cake pops-- it's my job as auntie to make sure he gets more than he bargained for.)

Instead of sitting down and chatting, like my usual dating M.O., Mister bounced here and there, finally finding entertainment in shaking the umbrella pole outside.

"Uh, Mister-- you probably shouldn't do that. It might upset the workers here."

"Will they punish us?"

"They might."

"What will they do?" His eyes widen, envisioning heinous torture, no doubt.

"They might make us leave."

"They might make a sleeve?"

I could see him trying to process this unusual form of discipline. I tried to imagine it too. Starbucks employees, feverishly sewing a sleeve to present to us in disapproval of Mister's behavior. Indignantly tossing it in our direction upon its completion. Maybe a short sleeve indicates less anger, and a long sleeve implies you'd better not show your face at this particular Starbucks again. And a whole shirt? You're probably headed for jail. I didn't correct the misunderstanding.

After Starbucks we went to the park, and when he tired of playing alone (Auntie's dress was a bit short for running and jumping) we went to McDonald's for french fries and more play. There he unceremoniously dropped me for two cute little numbers closer to his age. Although, he did take a few breaks to come profess his love to me. Player.

"I love you so much, Auntie!"

"I love you too, Mister!"

"I love you more."

"Not possible-- I love you more."

Then he'd scamper away again. Off with Sophie and Eva-- the tiny date stealers.

At the end of our outing he thanked me. "Can we go again tomorrow?"

"Oh, I'd love to, but I can't, Mister."

"The next day?"

"Tell you what, we'll go out again really soon. Okay?"

"Okay!"

I wonder when it will stop being cool to date his aunt.... I think I have a few more years to enjoy. And after that, I'm not averse kidnapping.