trouble in river city

Bryn, bryn, bryn, oh bryn. I love this little child of mine but she is trouble. She lost a baseball this week, her first, for talking. We knew it would eventually happen; she took it well. If talking is the worst of her crimes then I'll take it. Although, yesterday in church: I watched Bryn play with and stroke Tyler's (her obvious crush and Kindergarten cohort) hair. What made me, Janae, and Genessee laugh more was that Tyler didn't stop her and enjoyed the hair tease. Ohhh what is a mother to do. My mom told me stories that I used to have boys pick me up to walk me to kindergarten and I would strut all the way there, but not my bryn. Have I doomed her to a life of fickleness?