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My 8-year-old has a crush on a girl in his class and perhaps you are wondering one of three things:

1.  What, already!?!?

2.  Wait, aren't girls supposed to be stinky and icky!?!?

3.  Why couldn't he just throw rocks, like other little boys!?!?

No big deal, right - what if I told you he got up and announced his "love" for the girl...in...front...of...the...whole...class!?!?

"So, how was your day?"

My son didn't look so hot and - judging by his making every effort at avoiding eye contact - my first thought was that he was actually going to be sick.

"Aren't you feeling well?"

Staring straight ahead, now.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Of course, I respected my son's privacy and - those being the code words for "But, I still really want to know!"  to us stinky girls - I attempted to skirt around the issue with other, you know, less-icky things.

"So, how was lunch?"

My son burst into tears and every mother within earshot of effectively dealing with an elementary school crush, learned exactly how not to.

"I did just what you told me...trusted my feelings...got up in front of the whole lunchroom...and told her that I loved her...and I didn't care who knew about it!"

Of course, I respected my son's courage and - those being the code words for "But, that's not what I told you to do!" to us icky moms - I pretty much just sat there and stared straight ahead.

"Then what happened?"

My son turned his back to me and began telling his 11-year-old sister the rest of the, you know, icky details.

"Well, some of the kids were like...EW!...and some were like...OH!...and some were like...um...I don't know."

Of course, I was like...HUH?...and my daughter just shook her head, as if she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Uh-huh, and what did she say?"

He wiped his eyes and even smiled, a little.

"Um...she didn't say anything and...uh...just smiled...HEY...maybe that means she likes me, too!"

I slowly raised my hand and was happy to be allowed to, you know, speak - I told him how much I admired his courage and ackowledged my 8-year-old son's definition of love:

"The way she makes me feel inside whenever she smiles at me or when I'm sitting next to her."

I also reminded him that his sisters and I believed him to be exceptionally kind-hearted, that "those feelings inside" were natural and having professed his admiration for her - especially  in such a public way - well, she should feel very flattered, indeed!

"Wait, do you mean I made her feel fat!?!?"

Yep, I'm thinking throwing rocks at girls would certainly be more fun.