Leave it to Brittni: Love Is In the Air

This weekend my daughter's elementary school held its first annual Father/Daughter Dance (insert fat flying Cupid babies in discount Pampers accompanied by a string quartet).

It would go down as the 3rd Valentine's Day celebration my husband would have with our oldest girl and she was absolutely delighted. At 6, Ashton is the bearer of a romantic heart that confounds me to no end. She's much more sensitive and "aware" of boys than I ever was at that age. In fact, when she found out her dad would be willing to cut short his business trip and make it back in time for the soirée, she informed him that she already had a boyfriend (so if he showed up, my husband would've gotten kicked to the curb - insert side eye). Never mind the boyfriend in question is a classmate from her Preschool class that she hasn't seen in a year, for her, the heart wants what it wants.

Pre-K boo thang.

Oddly enough though, this was the first time my son voiced his displeasure at being excluded from the pomp & circumstance of the holiday date. Not one to leave a kid out (never know who'll end up being the breadwinner that determines which old folks home I go into), and since grandma happened to be in town and was free to care for the baby, I decided it was as good a time as any to start a Mommy/Son date night tradition. He was utterly tickled and I was quite happy to share in the festivities with my best boy.

So on Saturday, while Ashton gushed about wearing make up and begged to wear my heels, Roman prepared to deck himself out in his most dapper attire. I allowed my big girl to don her fanciest jewelry (a pair of dangling fairy earrings that jingled when she walked) and a touch of lip gloss. Meanwhile, my boy insisted on getting himself ready - the same way daddy does - on his own. It wasn't until I heard a yell from down the hallway, "Mommy, should I wear underwear?" that I realized perhaps I hadn't explained to him what a Mommy/Son date would (and would not) entail.

Always one to push the fashion envelope.

Nonetheless, he came up with an ensemble that was surprisingly spot-on for a night on the town. Seeing the opportunity for endless pics, I coordinated and threw on a blazer of my own so that we'd match. After he first clarified to me that I wasn't a man (I'll be explaining gender stereotypes to my little cave man in due time *sigh*), he did admit that I looked nice and we set out for a fun filled evening. His only caveat had been that we go somewhere "fancy" and that I drive ("even though the boy drives on a date") because he didn't want to break my car by driving himself.

Highlights were plentiful but included Roman being complimented so profusely that he tired of using his manners and eventually told someone, "I know I'm cute already. It's 'cause I'm on a date!" His referencing me as "me'lady" all evening with what was supposed to be a British accent (possibly due to the Mary Poppins re-watching we've done this week). And also when he told me that I'd had enough of the cake we shared for dessert because he wanted the rest of the whipped cream topping for himself (to be fair, this was not the first time a date tried to regulate my sweets intake - the first time didn't turn out as well for the guy though).

It was also an interactive outing, we colored, played tic tac toe on his children's menu and I Spy as we watched the other restaurant goers. He finally sat on my lap and rested his head on my bosom as the night drew long (also not the first time I've had that happen on a date) but overall, it was one of the more pleasant evenings I've had with a male. And considering he paid - thrusting the fistful of bills his dad had stuck in his pocket beforehand at the surprised waitress - I think I came out ahead.

We'll definitely be adding Mommy/Son nights into our regular rotation and who knows, maybe next year I'll even follow his direction and wear a proper "lady dress." Happy Valentine's Day, from all of my loves to all of yours!