It’s Valentine’s Day, and my daughter is crushing on her fellow line leader, Henry—or, as her father and I like to call him, The Most Interesting Kindergartner in the World. We’ve heard a lot about Henry over the past few weeks. He likes to learn about animals, and has a particular interest in poisonous frogs, which apparently come in an array of colors. Since a poisonous frog doesn’t seem like an appropriate Valentine’s Day gift, my daughter bought him a book about animals. She insisted on wrapping it herself, without any help, so let’s hope Henry’s aesthetic standards are not high.
I’m not sure if Henry returns her sentiment, and for a period of time, I was hearing so much about him that I hoped he wasn’t pondering a restraining order. My daughter’s babysitter half-jokingly suggested that we tell her that the man is supposed to give presents to the woman. But my kid’s obviously never read The Rules, a book about how ladies should play hard-to-get (although she would wholeheartedly endorse the authors’ advice about growing your hair long). She just expects Henry to like her back, which is the great thing about being five. There’s no overthinking the situation.
I felt reassured about the stalking when I heard Henry apparently plans to get her a puppy for Valentine’s Day. All I can say is, let’s hope it’s a stuffed animal. (I love puppies. Who doesn’t love puppies? But we live in New York City, which is not conducive to puppy owning.) However, my daughter said it’s fine if Henry doesn’t get her a present at all. So much for The Rules. In the meantime, I look forward to the stories of The Most Interesting Kindergartner in the World, and seeing my daughter smile every time she says his name.