This conversation took place yesterday on our way home from karate, completely out of the blue.
The Son: Momma, don't cry when I tell you what I have to tell you because I have to tell you something important. Don't cry OK?
Me: Well, what is it?
The Son: Sometimes, I like boys more than I like girls. Don't cry.
The Son: I think you're just fake crying.
Me: (still sniffling) No, I'm not, this is a real cry.
The Son: Sometimes Momma, just sometimes, I like boys better than I like girls.
Me: ("full" crying now) Don't you like me? I'm a girl.
The Son: Yes, I like you. Momma! Didn't you hear the "sometimes?" It's just that I think girls' toys are just kind of disgusting.
Me: Really? What kind of girls' toys are disgusting?
The Son: Well, like Barbies.
Me: I like Barbies...I played with them a lot as a kid.
The Son: Well, and Bratz Girls, they're disgusting too.
Me: Yeah, I agree with you on that one, Bratz Girls are pretty disgusting.
So, then he stopped talking about girls, boys and disgusting toys. I found the whole thing highly amusing. I don't think it will happen, but I might cry for real if he tells me the same thing ten years from now! Seriously though, we'll love him even if he does like boys better than girls just as long as he's happy.
Postcards from England
7 hours ago