We were joined this week by a couple of our military friends with whom we had the great pleasure of sharing our KU traditions. We taught them how and when to wave the wheat, all about the fight song and pointed out the landmarks of campus which are so beautifully framed by the stadium. And by we, of course I mean the kids because our work here is done. My brilliant children are pretty much fully brainwashed to bleed crimson and blue. How do I know? Well, I give you this shining example: Natalie has professed her love of all things purple since she started talking (which was about two and a quarter years ago if memory serves, but sometimes I'm a little foggy on these things). While Wyatt has often said he plans to attend KU, Natalie has always said she wants to go to a purple college (and before the K-Staters among you get all excited, just know that she's already aware of Northwestern and Washington). Natalie also still harbors a fear of mascots. Disney, Red Robin, the Geico Gecko, Jayhawks, it doesn't matter; if it's life-sized and in her face, it'll freak her out. She likes them from afar, but just doesn't need to be near them.
But yesterday, that little girl uttered the sweetest words. "Mama, when I a cheeryeader, I gonna hug and tiss the Jayhawk."
To which I replied, "Does that mean you want to go to college at KU?"
"Dat your college, Mama?" She asked, pointing toward the Union, Frasier Hall and beyond.
"Yes, sweetie, that's my college."
"Den yes, I go to KU, too, Mama."
So I gave her a big hug, assured her I'd be very happy if she chooses it someday but that really I'll be happy no matter where she chooses. Then I reminded her that she just needs to choose to go to college. But here's the thing, if she does, by some fluke of the universe end up at KU someday, I might actually encourage her to go hug and kiss that Jayhawk so I can remember how passionate my little kids were in Memorial Stadium one magical fall.