Are You SURE We're Related?

We got to school a little early on Friday, so Pink P's teacher had a chance to corner me.

Teacher: Have you heard about her "boyfriend?"
Me: (Sigh) Yes.
Teacher: I just wanted to let you know that they were holding hands during naptime, so I separated them.
Me: Thank you.
Teacher: She still has a problem with blowing kisses though. So maybe that's something you can talk about at home?
Me: Of course.

Those of you who know me can understand why I am wondering where this kid came from. If teachers talked to my mom, it was usually about how I beat up a boy on the play ground or didn't try hard enough to make the other kids like me. Just the other day, I was reminiscing about the fact that I was essentially kicked out of Brownie Scouts. Apparently, my scoffs and refusal to glue doilies onto empty coffee cans was the last straw. I don't remember. I just remember wishing I could be home playing basketball or building forts in the woods.

In the last 48 hours, Pink P said all of the following:

» I can't wait to go to school so I can be with my boyfriend.

» (To a complete stranger) I just love your hair.

» (Again to a complete stranger) What a pretty bow!

» Can I take my unicorn with me?

» I don't want to wear pants! I want to wear a dress!!!

» This needs more glitter.

» They like it when I blow them kisses!

» He thinks I'm cute.

» I never have enough money to go shopping.

» Why can't I paint my fingernails? I'm old enough!

I don't think I've ever, in my entire life, uttered any one of these phrases. Ever.

***

I tried to intervene, I really did. And when I did, we had the following conversation:

M: Pink, I don't think Chase thinks of you that way.
P: Yes, he does. He's my boyfriend. He loves me and I love him.
M: But when we saw him the other day, he seemed kind of annoyed by you. I think he just wants to be your friend.
P: (in tears) Mommy! That's mean! You just don't understand.

***

Now, I know you think I am overreacting, but look. She drew these this morning:

I admit it. I'm worried. Because she's right. I don't understand. I actually have no idea what she's talking about. Probably because my brain went into panic shutdown mode and hasn't been able to reboot since.

Proof Once Again that These May Not Be My Children

I've long believed that my kids' artistic talents are the clearest sign they may not be my children. I can't draw.

Ren can.

You've seen the awesome cakes Big Sissy designed, and you know I'm not her biological mom, so there. More proof.

In the past 15 hours, my children created these:

Tokyo Towers by Sky, Age 7. (Yup, that's Tokyo Tower and the new Sky Tree.)

Anpanman by Pink P, Age 4. (Google "Anpanman." You'll be amazed at how accurate this is, except of course for the signature pink instead of red.)

And, Titanic by Sky, Age 7. (Check out the detail. People are plummeting to their deaths, and he's NEVER SEEN THE MOVIE. This is just based on a description he heard from a friend at school).


Meanwhile, I'm left to wonder whether any of my genes made the cut.