Alexis has a boyfriend.

The little punk's name is Casey, and he is a classmate. Despite the fact that I've made it real clear to him that I am big enough to take him down, the kid has been spotted hugging my kid, holding her hand, and generally being all together way too freakin' adorable with her.

I swear it was just six months ago that my dear, sweet daughter was in diapers. Now she's going steady with a boy. OH. MY. GAWD.

Casey is all I hear about these days. "Casey wants to come to my house," Alexis tells me. "Casey didn't eat his lunch today," she reports. "Me and Casey played tag today," she says. I ask how some of the other kids are doing and if she played with anyone besides Casey. "Casey is my boyfriend," is always her answer. It's as if she has dumped all of her best girl friends for a boy.

Fan-freakin-tastic. I thought I had ten more years before I had to perfect my Watch Yourself, You Little Punk Stare.

Tonight Alexis was out in the front yard with me, helping me rip out weeds and grass for a flower bed. She told me all about her day as we worked, including all the fun things that she and Casey did together. It was all very cutesy and fun and blah, blah, blah. Suddenly she stopped her gushy Casey talk mid-sentence and started staring across the street. "What do you see?" I asked.

"Look, Momma. There's a boy," she replied.

As my eyes rolled out of my head, I looked over and saw the 4-year old who lives directly across the street walking down the sidewalk with his slightly older brother.

"Momma," Alexis continued, "he's cute."

"What about Casey?" I asked.

"I can have two boyfriends," she replied.

And then I died.