Last summer, my then-five-year-old became betrothed to a wonderful young man (the son of one of my best friends)—much to our amusement.
We figured it was a summer romance, which would fade away as they both headed to different schools, with other gorgeous little kindergarteners.
We were dead wrong.
My daughter's fiance endured mocking from his friends at school when he announced his engagement. ("I don't understand why it's bad to want to marry her," he told his mother forlornly.) My daughter told me that she liked some of the boys in her school, but "I promised H. I would marry him, so I'm going to."
And now they're back, blissfully, at summer camp together. Only now, my daughter calls him "Snuggleboy," and they kiss "only on the cheek, because on the lips is yucchy," and only when the camp counselors aren't looking.
Proof positive that one should never underestimate the power of love—even among mere babes.
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