The Story of the Broken Heart

In honor of Valentine's Day, I thought I'd share the "broken heart" conversation I had with Avery yesterday. We were baking cookies for her school Valentine party and one of the heart-shaped cookies broke. The conversation that followed had my laughing out loud, even though I was mildly depressed. (See yesterday's post.)



Avery: Momma, that heart broke! That means broken heart. Do you know what that is?



Me: Yes, do you?



Avery: Yes, it means your heart is broken because you didn't get what you wanted.



Me: How did you know that?



Avery: Mom, I always know that stuff, even when I was three.



Me: Well, you are basically right. It usually means that someone you really love or like didn't want to be your friend or something and it hurts your heart. Your heart doesn't really BREAK, it just feels sad inside so people say you have a broken heart.



Avery: I already know that, Mom. Can I eat that one since it was broken?



Me: Not now. We can maybe eat it if there are enough leftovers when I get finished.



Avery: Ok, I'm just going to give that broken one to Jacob (a boy at her school).



Me: Well, that's kind of mean. Why in the world would you want to give him a broken one?


Avery: It's not mean. It's normal. I want to give it to him.



Me: I doubt we'll give anyone the broken heart. I don't think that would make anyone happy.



Avery: Well, Mom, Jacob just broke my heart. I asked him to play with me on the slide and he said he didn't like to play with girls. And that just broke my heart inside me. So I want to give him the broken heart cookie to tell him that my heart is broken.





How can you argue with that kind of logic? I had to give her a whole cookie just for being smarter than I am.

I pity the poor fool who breaks her heart in high school. Broken cookies today, dog crap under his car door handles later.