Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Note: Wow, thanks for all the Alerts you guys put out on this story! Seriously, WOW! But only one review…hmm. Please try to review this, even if it's only a few words. It really means a lot. (It's also difficult to write as a four year old. I'm just saying. So this story will get more well-written as they get older and their vocabulary expands, haha.)

I skipped up to Kurt's house. "Kurt, come on out and play!"

"Okay," his sweet, soft voice called back. "Just let me put Madonna to bed." He came running out a few moments later.

"Who's Madonna? And I got your mommy these," I held out the flowers that I'd picked from my dad's garden.

"Thanks. And Madonna is my baby doll. I named her after Madonna, who's only like, the best singer ever. Hold on, I'll give these to my mommy…you wanna meet her?"

"Sure!" I ran after him. His house was really pretty.

"Mommy, meet my new friend Blaine! He brought you flowers."

Kurt's mommy came from around the corner. "Hi, dear," she said quietly.

"I got these for you," I handed her the flowers, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Thank you," she took them. "I'll put them in a vase and set them on the table."

"Mommy," Kurt tugged on her skirt. "Can I show Blaine my room?"

"Of course, sweetie."

"Come on," Kurt took my hand and led me to his room. I felt that same fluttery feeling in my tummy as his hand closed around mine, and wondered what it was all about. His room was really cool. The walls were yellow, bright yellow, and it reminded me of a summery day. It looked really comfy, too, with all these blankets and pillows around. His furniture was white, and his bed had Sesame Street sheets on it. "This is Madonna," Kurt said, walking over to a bed that looked like his, but smaller. "She's sleeping," he whispered, "so we have to be quiet".

"I like your room," I whispered back. I went to sit down on one of the pillows.

"No!" Kurt whispered loudly, running towards me. "Don't. Sit on. The pillows."

I stood up quickly, and Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I…I just don't like it when someone sits on my pillows. I like it when everything's all neat and perfect."

"Okay," I whimpered. I didn't like it when I did something wrong, and I'd done something wrong.

"Hey, don't be sad," Kurt patted my shoulder. "I…I didn't mean anything by it. I…I just like things to be neat, you know?"

I sniffled. "I don't want you to be m…mad at me!"

"I'm not mad. You didn't know how I feel about my pillows. It's okay, Blaine. I forgive you." He threw his arms around me and hugged me tightly, and I hugged him back.

"So, you wanna go play in my backyard? I have a really pretty playhouse!"

"Sure," I smiled, following him out the door.

"Let's play house! I'll be the mommy, and you'll be the daddy," he chirped.

"Okay," I bounded over to the house. "What do we do?"

"Well, I stay at home with the kids, and I make dinner for you. And you go to work and then you come home and we eat dinner."

"Okay!"

"You go out there, and you come in when I tell you to," Kurt skipped inside the house, shutting the red door behind him. I could hear him banging around in there, putting things on the table and singing softly to himself. "Okay, come in now!" he yelled.

I opened the door and walked in. There was plastic food on the table, and Kurt was puttering around in a pink apron. "Oh, honey, it's so good to see you!"

"It's good to see you, too, dear!" I walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek, like I see my daddy do to my mommy when he comes home from work.
Kurt turned a little red, but gestured towards the table.

"I made you dinner! It's chicken, your favorite!"

"Mmmm," I pretended to sniff the air. "How are the kids?"

"Well," Kurt paused, "Madonna got an A-plus-plus on her fashion design project, and Marc made me this apron."

"It's very pretty," I admired it.

"Isn't it?" Kurt twirled around. "Okay, now we sit down and eat." I sat down at the little white table.

"This chicken is excellent, darling," I smiled my biggest smile at him.

"Thank you, honey," Kurt smiled back at me and pretended to eat his chicken. He hummed to himself, and I joined in, although I wasn't sure what he was humming.

"Okay, dinner's over," Kurt suddenly put his chicken down and took off his apron. "Now we go to bed."

"Why do we go to bed after dinner?"

"I think now we're supposed to sit in bed and talk and watch TV and stuff. You know, the stuff that grown-ups do once the kids have gone to sleep. Well, I'm not sure. I've never had a friend to play house with before."

I stared at him. "You've never had a friend to play with before?"

"No," he shook his head. "You're the first one."

"Well, that's really cool," I shuffled my feet, not sure what to say. "I'm glad I met you, Kurt."

"I'm REALLY glad I met you, Blaine."