Romance.

My four year old always brings me flowers. I treasure this loving act every single time he does it (at least once a day). At the risk of being indulgent (as Simon might say), I am going to blog about this romance in my life. It's not like I'm auditioning for American Idol here. My latest bunch of flowers:


My sweet son doesn't just give these to me and forget...he comes back to check on things to make sure they are well taken care of. He feels a little put out if I don't keep track of the flowers, even if that means carrying them all the way home from around the block, while bike-riding. This child is a born romantic combined with a superhero. When he is Superman, I am Lois Lane. When he is Batman, I am Vicki Vale. And when he is Spiderman, I am Mary Jane--and I must be in distress so that he can rescue me.

I love being rescued.

My little sweetheart notices when I wear new earrings, change my toe polish or put on a fresh coat of mascara. He is full of compliments and I must admit, he makes me feel beautiful. Now, I must add a few quirks about this loving little man...things that I wonder if I should worry about. First, whenever I pull my hair up, he demands that I take it down. It used to be playful, but now he is plain irritated and says, "mommy, I told you to keep that clip out of your hair." Next, he prefers skirts to jeans any day. When I wear skirts, he says "I like you in that" with adoring eyes, and affectionate pats. Finally, he likes it when I wear makeup.

So, remembering that he is four years old. Should I be concerned? Will you join me in praying for his future wife NOW?