It’s fitting – what with Valentine’s Day in less than a week – that our house should suddenly become a total mushy love fest (like more than normal). There’s a lot more kissing happening ‘round these parts. Obviously, Kayliana’s cheeks constantly scream for smooches – that’s a given; especially now that she’s all smiley and coo-ey and the occasional kiss gets that kind of reaction (the other kisses are just accepted with lukewarm boredom). But the majority of the other kisses are between Mike and me. (And why am I telling you about this? Hold on, this isn’t TMI, just hang in there.) Thanks – unfortunately – to the influence and peer pressure of first grade boys, Matthew has been brainwashed into thinking that all kissing is “totally gross.” He has, of course, shared this opinion with his brother, so now Zachary, too, is on the anti-kiss bandwagon. So, what are we doing about it? We’re kissing a lot. And holding them down and smothering their little cheeks and faces in kisses as well. We’ve got to prove a point that the more anti-kiss you are in this here house, the more kisses you’ll be seeing and receiving. Best – as a member of this family – to just accept kissing as part of the torture; it’s just a part of life here. Get used to it. Yesterday morning, Matthew told me in hushed tones that he had a very bad dream. So bad, in fact, that he wouldn’t tell me about it. I’ll admit it kinda freaked me out. What was his dream?! Was someone killed or hurt? Was he the bad guy in the dream? What the heck happened?! I kept reassuring him that no matter what, he could talk to me about it. He wasn’t going to be in trouble for a dream he had – something that he couldn’t control. But no, he just could not bring himself to tell me about it, and he left for school all distraught about this awful dream. Which left me all sorts of distraught too. The moment he got off the school bus and walked up to me, with his head hung, he said, “I’m ready to talk about my dream now.” Avoiding eye contact, Matthew mumbled that in his dream there was a row of police. And two rows of people (he didn’t know who any of the people were). “And, well, um, there was something kinda gross.” Matthew said. Steadying myself, I encouraged, “That’s OK. What happened?” “Well, there was kissing…and I was INVOLVED in it. And there was a wedding.” Then, in disgusted tones, Matthew added, “I was getting married and kissing a girl!!” (Matthew didn’t know who the mystery wife was). This was all said with the same amount of horror used for describing terrible crimes and senseless tragedy. Trying to contain my huge sighs of relief, I reassured him again that it was OK. Then later he added, “I bet I dreamt about a wedding because Ms. Baugh [his music teacher] is getting married.” “Oh yeah?” Then I asked nonchalantly, “Do you like Ms. Baugh…a lot?” “Mmm-hmmm.” And then quite a bit later, he said, “And I even got to do the limbo with Ms. Baugh!!” Oh really?! I think this kiddo might be following in his dad’s footsteps. Mike still talks in awed-tones about his first grade teacher – he had quite the crush on her and had big plans of marriage. “Yep!” Matthew exclaimed, getting more excited. “I got to hold the limbo stick with her!” Apparently this is what it means to ‘do the limbo’ with someone). “And, I was the only one in the whole class who got to hold the stick. And the rest of the kids were all like ‘aaaaaaahhhh, man. No fair!” Matthew grinned from ear-to-ear. Must be love. Thank goodness kissing is “totally gross” or I’d be worried about our little Romeo. (By the way: if/when you see Matthew soon and should you mention the grossness of kissing or his admiration for Ms. Baugh, I will punch you in the nose and kick you in the shin simultaneously for humiliating my child. That’s my job and right as his mom! I am merely recording these facts for FUTURE humiliation purposes…like to show a prom date or his wife. Really! Do you see how much embarrassing ammo I have? 375 pages worth! Poor kids. They don’t have a chance.)