LOVE IS IN THE AIR
Love is in the air Everywhere I look around
Love is in the air Every sight and every sound
And I don’t know if I’m being foolish Don’t know if I’m being wise
But it’s something that I must believe in And it’s there when I look in your eyes
Love is in the air In the whisper of the trees
Love is in the air In the thunder of the sea
And I don’t know if I’m just dreaming
Don’t know if I feel sane
But it’s something that I must believe in
And it’s there when you call out my name
John Paul Young
Perhaps the dropping temperatures have warmed the hearts of my young heartthrobs. Something has definitely got them in the mood. Maybe the obnoxious squirrel activity is getting to them too. I don’t know the cause, but I do know that tonight at dinner, unprovoked, our youngest announced that he is in love. Flat out. In love. My oldest boy nearly fell out of his chair but regained composure to hear the details without spoiling the mood. There is this girl who our youngest loves. Alas, she only talks to another boy. My son, and I QUOTE “only hope one day she will love me.”
Our nine-year old middle child chimed in stating that his older brother is lucky to be in middle school so he can start dating. Again, our oldest son nearly fell onto the floor yet again regained composure with a head snap so quick I thought he had given himself whiplash. Middle school is the golden age in elementary lore (apparently) where one can have a girlfriend and start dating. Our middle school oldest son quickly said, “no thanks.” Our nine-year old then listed his top three loves in class as girls he would ask out on dates. He wants to start earning and saving money now so he has date money.
I had no comment. I was stunned speechless. My oldest son asked me, “Aren’t you going to say anything?” “Nope.” He decided to take matters into his own hands. “Stop thinking about girls,” he advised his younger brothers, “get involved in sports or something, girls will make you crazy.” The seasoned chick magnet speaks out.
At this point I was rubbing my eyebrows and forehead off my face. Not wanting to ruin a good thing, I thanked them for sharing their feelings and asked, “Do the girls know you like them?” The youngest said “No way. I was tortured at my old school for THREE years because I told a girl I liked them, that’s not happening again.” Our middle son just grinned. Romance is brewing in the fourth grade.
Oh boy, here we go.