P-O-M-E-G-R-A-N-A-T-E

"There's a boy in my class who has a crush on me," said Bunny as if she were relating any other part of her day, like whether she library or what was on the hot lunch menu. There was no silliness or emotion behind it. It just...was.

It was one of those moments when the family was all together-together, but focused on various individual projects. Her words came out of nowhere.

J. and I looked at each other then responded in a similarly nonchalant fashion asking, "How do you know?" and "Did he tell you?"

"Weeeeell, no. But he always comes over to talk to me and ask me questions. Like how to spell 'pomegranate.' Stuff like that," she shrugged.

"And that's how you know?" I clarified.

"Yes." she responded, totally sure of herself.

"Do you have a crush on him?"

I continued the banter while I futzed about in the kitchen so she didn't feel any pressure to respond, but she did.

"A tiny one." And then she smiled.

Big.

"But I'm not going to tell him, because it's just a tiny crush." She showed me how small by pinching her thumb and forefinger almost together.

And that's where we left it.

I know a time will come when she won't want to tell us anything, but I kinda hope it never does. I want her to always be able to tell us about her secret and not-so-secret crushes while I make dinner and J. sits at the dining room table reading and Wallie colors.

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