I was in my kitchen, minding my own business – by that, I mean doing dishes – when my ten-year-old daughter asked me,

“Mom, what does ‘he was trouble when he walked in’ mean?”

Hmm. How much truth does a girl her age need?

“Well, some boys are really charming, but they’re trouble. They’ll smile and say nice things that make you feel special, but they’ll say nice things to all the girls.”

“Oh, like a player.”

I choked on nothing and dropped a dish with scalloped potatoes baked onto it. Not out of shock. I just didn’t want to wash it.

“Um, yeah. Like a player. You should avoid them. They will break your heart.”

“Oh, Mom. You don’t fall in love with a player. Everyone knows that.”

Part of me is horrified by this conversation. We’re Baptists for crying out loud. And she’s TEN. But at least she knows. She is savvy. They are breeding trouble younger and younger these days and she will know how to spot it when it walks in.

Eye contact. Trouble makes really good eye contact.

I’m going to wait until she’s eleven to find out what she knows about the booty call.