Crush

We have heard the name Easton much from Shelby. From the beginning of the year, we have heard when Easton chased Shelby at recess, when Easton tickled Shelby after catching her, when Easton sat next to Shelby on the reading carpet, Easton, Easton, Easton. Through all of the many, many, many stories of a boy that I don't have a face to put with the name, Shelby has always followed with, "He is just a friend." Adamantly. This was not corroborated by her Science notebook, however.

While meeting with her teacher last week for Parent Teacher Conferences, we both discovered a name scrawled all.over.her.notebook. And it wasn't Shelby. 

And then this, today. 

She was circling what I thought was her own name for her Poetry reciting days. Nope! She also circled his name. Easton.

I get it. I vividly remember the first time I saw my first crush after he moved into the neighborhood in second grade. The difference is: I owned it! My family knew, and poked fun at my crush. In fact, it is still the brunt of many jokes today. Randy is even the producer of many of the jokes. School-girls crushes run deep, my friends. Deep!