The follwing is a true story. Unlike Geico, though, I cannot find D-list celebrities to act it out for me. Joan Rivers was too busy apologizing for dropping F bombs on live TV in England.
Tonight at the close of VBS (Vacation Bible School) one of Libbey's friends was running around in a pair of neon yellow goggles and flippers...on dry land...and it was pretty hilarious. Jackson, my sweet, please wear this get-up to church on Sunday, as it rocks. I'm standing there, chatting with Jackson's mother about his adorable fish-out-of-water-self, when Mary turns to me and says, "Casey was very upset to learn that Jackson kissed Libbey."
OK. Stop. First of all, Casey is our pastor's daughter. She is 5. Libbey and Jackson are both 6, born just a few weeks apart. But stop again.
Me: Whaaaaaat? WHAT?
Mary: Oh, didn't Scotty tell you?
Me: Whaaaaaat? WHAT?
Mary: Yeah...my son kissed your daughter in your pool last Friday.
Me: NO. Seriously. Wait, he kissed her? In the pool? Where the crap was I?
Mary: I don't know...but it was on the cheek. Everyone saw it. I thought you knew.
I'm all twitterpated and flustered (I KNOW, right? Extremely rare for me!) and going, "My child has been kissed and this is the first I know about it?"
At this, several others start chiming in..."Yeah I heard about that," and "Your husband told me about it on Sunday."
Whaaaaaaaat? WHAT? Scotty knows about the afternoon pool delight?
Because she is godly, a good friend, and loving, Mary (I love you, girl!) comes to my rescue with the real dope deal of how things went down:
Mary: I don't know what got into him. He said he just went over and kissed her on the cheek.
Me: Wait! My child has been kissed--even if only on the cheek--and no one, not even said child or her father bothered to share this news with me?
By this time Mary is feeling really badly for me. But she knows I'm not upset...I'm just stunned.
Then my pastor's wife chimes in that her 5 year old daughter has somehow oveheard the story of Pimp Daddy Jackson laying a good one on my sweet, innocent baby. And Casey is none too pleased, as she loves Jackson and wants those smooches for herself.
Like sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of Our Lives, the Junior Version.
Jackson explained to his mother, "I like Casey. But I love Libbey."
This is why he was overwhelmed with the urgent desire to plant one on her, I suppose.
Later on in the evening I was able to ask Libbey her side of the melodrama. (It's a melodrama in my head, at least.)
Me: So...why didn't you tell me Jackson kissed you last week?
Libbey: I don't know. I told Daddy.
Me: But these are things you tell Mommy about FIRST.
Libbey: Well, OK, but he just walked over and kissed me on the cheek. I said, "Jackson, why did you do that?" He just wanted to, I guess.
With that she returned to eating potato chips, completely nonplussed by the event. Meanwhile I've spent the evening singing Prince's "Kiss," praying to God that antics of a Prince nature will elude my girls for at least 20 more years. Heck on that, there better be NO antics of a Prince nature until they are married. Then they can fly their freak flags all they want, just like their Mama.
And my lingering question is: How am I ever gonna break this to Mrs. R.? Oh, please don't tell The Boy. And keep him away from little southern girls in the swimming pool. Apparently they're irresistible.
Daddy & Libbey, Summer '07, when she was still young, innocent, and required floaties for confidence. Now she swims the length of the pool, goes underwater without holding her nose, and stands calmly while a young boy snogs her precious little face. My, how we've grown. Sigh...