delagar can't take it

The young man to whom kid has been engaged for the past several years (since they were sixteen months old and three years old, respectively) and to whom, at the ripe age of six (nearly seven, as she keeps reminding me) she is still intended, though there was that crisis a few weeks back, when Miles (not his real name) was approached with an offer of marriage by some strumpet in his pre-school class at the First Memorial Pre-School and Daycare in Greenwood, Arkansas – but he turned her down, telling her his heart belonged to another, so that was all right – in any case, as I was saying, Miles, for his fourth birthday? A few days ago? was given, by his loving grandparents, one of those battery-operated vehicles that four year olds can drive around the landscape by themselves, vroom-vroom, meep-meep, it’s very amusing, but it has led to me hearing the sentence that no parent ever wants to hear come out of their daughter’s mouth:

“I have a boyfriend,” she suddenly cried from the backseat yesterday. “And he can drive!”