"Mama?" Joseph asked while I flipped pancakes. "Why don't you go on dates?"
"Oh," I turned the heat down and tried to figure out how to respond. "I don't know. Why? Do you think I should?"
"I do," he nodded emphatically.
"I'll think about it." I set a pancake in front of him.
"Are you and Daddy still married?" he asked reaching for the syrup.
"Nope." I watched to make sure he didn't turn his plate into a lake of maple.
"Anne's not married any more either," he said conversationally. I wondered where he was going with this line of reasoning.
"This is true," I said cautiously.
"And she went on a date and met Scott."
"This is also true."
"And he's nice. So maybe you should go on a date."
"Maybe you're right. I'll take it into consideration." I poured more batter.
"Just go for coffee."
I stared at him and tried to figure out when my son had turned into my Italian grandmother. "Okay."
"You dance and kiss on a date!" Elizabeth piped up, her mouth full of cake and syrup.
"You never kiss the first time!" Joseph was appalled at his little sister.
I flipped the pancake and made a mental note to ship Elizabeth to a convent during her teenage years or, at least, have Joseph chaperon.
"You have coffee and you talk about Legos."
"Noted," I put more pancakes on a plate and turned off the burner.
"Think about it."
"I will." I sat down with my pancake and tried to shake away my bemusement. Aren't kids supposed to not want their mother to date? I haven't found an article to help me figure out how to deal with this one.
2 hours ago