Scene 1: Kitchen table, evening.
Lucy: Eli is my boyfriend.
Me (dragging concentration away from the book/magazine/email I’m reading): What?
Lucy (impatiently): Eli is my boyfriend.
Lucy: We ride the bus together.
Me (putting book/magazine/computer aside with great effort): Ummm…
Me: What makes him your boyfriend?
Lucy: I dunno.
Me: What do you do together?
Me: Do you talk to each other on the bus?
Lucy: Not really.
Me: So how is he your [cringe] boyfriend?
Lucy: He just is.
Me (because I can’t help it, it’s just the kind of Mommy I am): Did someone tell you he’s your boyfriend?
Lucy: No. Well, maybe. I don’t remember. I just know he is.
Me: How do you know?
Lucy: Let’s just not talk about this, OK?
Scene 2: Kitchen table, next evening.
Me: So, how’s Eli?
Lucy (dragging concentration away from book/magazine/coloring she’s working on): What?
Me: How’s Eli? Did you sit with him on the bus today?
What do you figure? Fifteen, twenty more years of this?