That Anthony

They had a walk-a-thon at Kaes's school this morning. Though Kaes is in the afternoon kindergarten class, I took her over for the walk-a-thon because first, the girl loves to run (more on that later) and second, anything to siphon off some of her energy is a good thing.

On our way over to the school (yes, we drove one block to the walk-a-thon--we were late, as usual) Kaes was telling me about Anthony. Remember Anthony? A few months back the girl informed him it was his turn to chase her, since she had been chasing him the whole time. Well, Anthony is in the morning class, so Kaes doesn't get to see him often I guess (I'm not really certain how they see each other at all, but I've got bigger things to worry about at the moment). She was very 'distraught' that she was going to be seeing Anthony at the walk-a-thon, because she doesn't like him.

I said, "But Kaes, I thought you chased him."

"Mom," she said (in a tone of voice I wasn't expecting to hear until she was a teenager) "I chase him because I don't like him."

Oh. Well, things are certainly different than they were when I was in school. I thought the whole point of chasing was because you DID like somebody. Whatever.

She also mentioned a boy named Kaia (I have no idea how to spell his name) and that she doesn't like him either.

So, we got to school and started walking (a total of two miles when all was said and done, and the girl was ready to do more). After a couple of laps I finally got to meet Anthony, a boy sporting long brown curls, cowboy boots and an attitude. And the girl? The emotion in her voice when she called out "Hi, Anthony!" was not "I hate you."

I am in so much trouble.

But then, so are her future boyfriends, if she continues to have this confusion about 'like' and 'hate.'

Now for Kaia. Or maybe walking.

After walking a lap or two she asked if we could run. I said no. She said, "But Mom, I heard you like running." Really? Where on earth did you hear that? I still told her no. She said, "But we're here to exercise." I told her walking was exercise. Eventually she wore me down and we would run in thirty-second spurts (I like running--NOT!). Eventually she just got tired of me and went running on her own. My Jonathon has these freaking gazelle legs and when he runs it's just crazy to watch him go. However, his little sister has a passion for it that he doesn't quite possess. The girl can run. Forever. She just goes. Weaves in and out of people and trees (may she grow out of that before she ever gets behind the wheel of a car), her hair flying all over the place. The girl loves to run.

So she spent the last several laps way off in front of me, and at one point I saw her walking with a boy (long blond hair). They did not look like they were fighting or wishing imminent, painful death on each other. When we finally hooked up again (to go home so I could write this blog...uh, pack for our camping trip tonight) I asked her who the blond boy was. Kaia, of course. As we were leaving the playground she said, "Because I don't like him, I rolled my eyes at him."

Have I mentioned I'm in trouble?