Rollie Suave

So Rollie has officially developed his first crush. 

I'm not even sure how it started. They were at a park together, and from what I could tell, she stood around with her hands on her hips a lot, and ran away from him when he chased her. I suppose that's how all great love stories begin: Boy meets girl, girl puts her hands on her hips, boy becomes smitten and chases girl around the playground to steal girl's headband. 

Ever since this love connection, Rollie has been begging me to invite her to every park, pool, and other public place we frequent. He asks about her age, schooling, and if she can run super fast. I guess it's all part of his screening process. Some guys look for brains, or big boobs or other facets of compatability. Rollie looks for speed. I hope this doesn't translate into him liking fast women later in life. Eeesh.

This little girl is two years older, a head taller, and doesn't seem to realize Rollie even exists. Perhaps this also lends to her mystique, her allure, her intoxicating appeal. That and the fact that she can ride a bike without training wheels. I mean, who can resist such talent?

The last time they were at a park together, A____ sat and dug in the sand with a few other kids while Rollie hid inside a playhouse and watched her through a little flowershaped peephole like a miniature Aqualung. He occasionally chucked a plastic shovel or other cheap toy in her direction, then ducked back inside the playhouse to gauge her reaction. She gave him no such satisfaction, but ignored his advances and kept digging to China. Playing hard to get, I suppose.

And so the dance went on. Rollie continued his attempts to appear smooth, charming and otherwise irresistible to A_____, and A______ remained coy, only glancing in the direction of the playhouse when an object Rollie had thrown landed too close for her liking. I could only imagine how things will play out in a few years, when Rollie is in school with even more super-fast girls to chose from. He'll be sent to the principal's office daily for throwing things; girls will be lined up at the nurse's office with black eyes and bloody lips, my son forever burned in their consciousness as that weirdo kid who used to throw everything at them that wasn't nailed down.

Yesterday, Rollie must have come to the conclusion that impressing girls is a mystery he must start solving now, since it's a nut he'll be trying to crack for the rest of his life. He wandered into the kitchen where I was cleaning an exploded soda can from inside the freezer (so that's what that huge popping sound was a while ago) and asked:

Momma, how do girls get boys' attention?

Me: How do girls get boys' attention? Um...what do you mean, Bud?

Rollie (looking both uncertain and hopeful that I will be able to give him any pointers. What would I know, anyway? I'm a knocked up old lady who hasn't been on the market in almost 15 years. If I tried to flirt now I'd be about as successful as Rodney Dangerfield trying to pick up chicks at Lilith Fair ): I mean...what do girls do to get boys' attention?

Me: You mean what can a boy do to get a girl's attention?

Rollie: Yeah.

Me: You mean what can you do to get A_____'s attention?

Rollie: Yeah.

Me (Holy crap, seriously? We're already having this conversation? But, I can still calculate your age in months! You still have unused pull-ups sitting in your closet! You still drink from a sippy cup!): Oh Rollie....Wow....Well I guess you could start by tapping her on the shoulder.

Rollie: Why?

Me: Well, because touching someone is a good way to get their attention. (Hmmm...perhaps not the best piece of advice I should give.)

Rollie: What if they're too far away for me to touch them?

Me: You mean like you the other day? 

Rollie: Yeah.

Me: Rol, you can't just stand there and throw things at people. Then they won't want to be around you.

Rollie: Oh.

Me: You've got to just go up to them and start talking.

Rollie: Oh.

Me: Or, you know what you could do is tell some jokes. Girls like boys who are funny. At least, I do.

Rollie: But I don't know any jokes.

Me: Sure you do. You know all those knock-knock jokes.

Suddenly Rollie looks up like he's seen a break in the ominous storm-clouds of girl-dom, and the sun of possibility is streaming down upon him.

Rollie: Knock-knock!

Me: Who's there?

Rollie: ..... Mickey Mouse's underwear!

Me: Um...that might not be the best one you've got, Rol. A_____ is probably more sophisticated than that.

Rollie: ....Knock-knock!

Me: Who's there?

Rollie: ....Banana.

Me: Okay, Rollie, you probably shouldn't lead off with that one, either. Come on, you know some better ones. 

Rollie: ....Knock-knock!

Me: Who's there?

Rollie: ....Interrupting cow.

Me: Interrupting cow--

Rollie: MOOOO!

Me: Ah-ha! See? There you go. That's a good one. That'll get her attention.

Rollie: Why?

Me: Because it's actually funny.

Rollie: Why is it funny?

Me: Because it's like, this rude cow is at the door, cutting you off. It's unexpected. Sometimes the unexpected is hilarious.

Rollie: ....Knock-knock.

Me: Who's there?

Rollie: Mickey Mouse's bottom!

Me: See, that one's just not funny. You need to stay away from ones like that.

Rollie: But it was unexpected.

Me: Yes...I guess it was.....

An air of authority also impresses the ladies

And so it came to pass that I gave my four-year-old son his first lesson in how to impress the opposite sex. When I recounted this to Jeff last night, he told me I should have advised Rollie to just be himself. Yes, perhaps. But then again, being himself could be disastrous. He is a little boy, after all. Pretending to be a skunk and spray his scent on her probably won't win him any points.