Page 8 of Mr. Principal

“Put it in her phone.” Meredith offered her hands on either side of her face as she leaned on the window with her head poked out staring at us.

I handed Carter my phone and he entered his details.

“Aren’t you going to invite him to Auntie Piper’s birthday party?” Meredith asked.

“I’m already going to be there.”

“You know Auntie Piper?”

“Yep. Your Auntie Piper and your mom were my best friends in college.”

Meredith frowned as if in deep thought and then said with great gravity, “If you had to choose between kissing Mommy and kissing Auntie Piper, who would you choose?”

I know I turned beet red.

Carter let out a loud laugh and gathered his things. “That’s quite a question, Meredith. But I have a feeling that neither your auntie or your mom is interested in kissing me.”

She shrugged and settled back in her seat with a smug smile. “You never know.”

“Okay, I think we’re done here. I’m mortified.” It wasn’t like Meredith to talk about anyone kissing. She always said that kissing was the grossest thing in the world. I guess she’d changed her mind.

“Don’t be. You should hear some of the things kids share with me at school. That was pretty mild.”

“Glad you think so,” I said, lowering myself into my car. I avoided making eye contact with him and thanked him again profusely.

“My pleasure,” he said, heading back in the direction of his car.

Groaning, I looked through my side mirror to ensure no one was coming and made my way back into traffic. I looked back at Meredith and said, “Umm, honey. Can we not make comments about me kissing anyone?”

“I guess,” she said reluctantly. “But Mom, if Daddy can kiss Becca, why can’t you kiss someone else too? It’s a free country. And you better start kissing someone else now before you get too old to kiss anyone. And then you’ll just be a sad old lady.”

“Sad old lady?” I said in shock. “Where do you get this stuff from?”

She shrugged. “I’m just smart like that.”

Smart would not have been the word I’d use. I probably would have used intrusive, but hey, she was only five going on six.

The mention of Becca immediately put me in a bad mood. Becca was the nineteen-year-old that my ex-husband had married. I didn’t want to think about Tom kissing her, but Meredith had a point. I wasn’t ready to move on but at the very least I needed to start thinking about it. I was young and had a whole lot of life to live. It didn’t make sense to waste it being bitter about my divorce.

The sun was setting in front of us. It was officially the end of the day. Tomorrow would be better I told myself. I would make sure of it.