"Have you dumped him then?" came the question from my youngest son, his face stormy with contempt.

"Yes," snapped my 10-year-old daughter.

"Bet you haven't" came the reply.

"I have," she insisted, her cheeks beginning to colour.

Her older brother, who is 15, chimed in from the front seat of the car.

"Just text him and tell him he's history."

Time for Dad to get involved. "OK, enough. Let's leave it."

"But dad..." the boys chorused.

Secretly I wanted to say more.

My little girl had been talking about her new "boyfriend" for weeks.

It was one of those fleeting "classroom romances" that little girls have but it was important to her.

I knew what he looked like, the football team he supported, his sister's name and where he lived. While we'd been away on holiday she'd sent him a postcard. And as the week neared its end she went into one of those brightly lit sweet shops where the air is thick with sugar and with her own money she chose a large heart shaped lolly.

It was bright blue and pink and orange and she brought it from the shop beaming. She guarded it all the way home and waited for the rest of the holiday in case she saw the little boy.

She didn't see him and so on the first day of the new school year carefully placed it in her bag.

Sometimes there are moments in your children's lives when you want to step in but know you can't.

And as I waited for her I experienced one of them.

I was a little way from a set of double glass doors that lead to the classrooms. She came from her room on the left surrounded by her friends, chatting and smiling.

And just like a scene from High School Musical the "boyfriend" came from his classroom on the other side of the hall with his friends.

As they came face to face she drew the lollipop from her bag and proudly held it up before her.

Whatever was about to happen was in full view of everyone.

I wanted to say "Stop, don't do this" but she was on the other side of the door and anyway she would never have let me forget it.

I could see her hold out the lolly and mouth the words "I bought this for you."

And then .. I saw his dark haired head shake as he pushed it away.

She stood motionless for a second or two. And with dignity way, way beyond her years she gave the slightest of sad smiles and clutching the lollipop she turned away.

Then she saw me, walked up quietly and wrapped her arms around me still holding the lolly.

I didn't say anything at first.

A few minutes later as we strolled up the road together I said: "He didn't want it then".

She shook her head and gave another little smile.

"It doesn't matter Daddy. You can have it. I love you best anyway."