The Boy I Hope Will Grow Up to Be My Daughter's Boyfriend

Student Council elections were held this week at my kids' elementary school.

I give my daughter major credit: she stayed in the race despite certain defeat. Her primary opponent for the position of classroom representative was a girl with pierced ears, a golden mane the length of the Mississippi River, and a celebrity father. Last year, an ad for the girl's father's dental practice graced the back cover of the school phone directory. This year, he's on the inside flap of the daily planners.

"Just do your best," my husband and I told her as we listened to her practice her speech.

On the morning of the election, my daughter was sick with worry: not that she might lose the election (she knew that going in), but that she wasn't going to get any votes.

"I will be so embarrassed if no one votes for me," she said a million times.

I had bitten my fingernails down to stubs by the time she got off the bus.

"Well?" I asked nervously.

She shrugged. "Jessica won," she said matter-of-factly.

Then she went on to tell me the good news. When the votes were being collected, my daughter happened to notice that the boy sitting at the desk next to her wrote her name down on his ballot.

That was the only vote that she got.

After my daughter skipped off happily to play, I dug through the kitchen drawer for last year's school directory and found the phone number for the boy who preserved my daughter's dignity.

And I called his mother and told her how grateful I am for her son.