A couple of days ago, Lizzy was in a reflective mood on our drive into town.
“When I grow up and get a lot older – when I’m all grown up, like, 6 years old, or something,” she pronounces, “I’m going to line up all the boys I like and I’m going to pick which one I want to marry.”
She’s been quite obsessed with the fact – and asks for confirmation of these details – that she cannot marry more than one person. I’m tempted to kick in a polygamy joke sometimes, but so far, I’ve resisted the urge. Don’t want to confuse her, and all.
“When I grow up and get a lot older – when I’m all grown up, like, 6 years old, or something,” she pronounces, “I’m going to line up all the boys I like and I’m going to pick which one I want to marry.”
She’s been quite obsessed with the fact – and asks for confirmation of these details – that she cannot marry more than one person. I’m tempted to kick in a polygamy joke sometimes, but so far, I’ve resisted the urge. Don’t want to confuse her, and all.
The feminist in me (small, but still alive) wants to kind of shout, “and you don’t HAVE to get married, anyway, kid!”, but I stifle her, too.
So her church buddy and new neighbor Ethan will be in the lineup (of course!), as well as a few friends from her day care, and her second cousin (but his mom, Matt's cousin, was adopted, so I guess that’s sort of okay). That might be it. There were about six lucky lads, all told.
Later, she was showing a bit of concern for those who will be rejected. “Maybe they can find other girls to marry!” she said brightly. Yes, I imagine they’ll probably manage their grief somehow. They’ll find a way to cope. There ARE other fish in the sea.
I’ve tried injecting a bit of reality into the proceedings. I’ve told her that she might even meet NEW boys before then that might make the cut. She seems unconvinced. Also,
“You know, Lizzy – those boys get to say whom THEY want to marry, too,” I said. “They have to want to marry you, as well as you wanting to marry them.”
She pondered this for a moment, then said, “Daddy? When I grow up, how will I get boys to like me?”
Matt, not missing a beat, immediately said, “All you’ll have to do is show up, Lizzy. They’ll come to you.” She seemed rather pleased by that.
------------------
So her church buddy and new neighbor Ethan will be in the lineup (of course!), as well as a few friends from her day care, and her second cousin (but his mom, Matt's cousin, was adopted, so I guess that’s sort of okay). That might be it. There were about six lucky lads, all told.
Later, she was showing a bit of concern for those who will be rejected. “Maybe they can find other girls to marry!” she said brightly. Yes, I imagine they’ll probably manage their grief somehow. They’ll find a way to cope. There ARE other fish in the sea.
I’ve tried injecting a bit of reality into the proceedings. I’ve told her that she might even meet NEW boys before then that might make the cut. She seems unconvinced. Also,
“You know, Lizzy – those boys get to say whom THEY want to marry, too,” I said. “They have to want to marry you, as well as you wanting to marry them.”
She pondered this for a moment, then said, “Daddy? When I grow up, how will I get boys to like me?”
Matt, not missing a beat, immediately said, “All you’ll have to do is show up, Lizzy. They’ll come to you.” She seemed rather pleased by that.
------------------
Another Lizzy note: Next Wednesday is Valentines’ day, and Lizzy’s class is scheduled to go to some nursing home and sing songs for the elderly. A really lovely idea – I can’t think of many groups of people who are more ignored or in need of affection; I’ve always kind of had a heart for that, though I’ve done very little about it.
I fear, though, for the reactions of the 3- and 4-year-olds. Nursing homes can be very scary places, at least to kids. Strange, hospital-like smells; some of the kids have never seen ‘very old’ people; some of the people have kinda lost their minds, and don’t act the way kids expect people to act. I’m kind of bracing for Lizzy to freak out and make them feel even worse. Ugh.
Wednesdays are the worst possible days for me to skip out of work. But my boss has granted me a half-day off that day, given the occasion, so I’m going to volunteer to drive some kids and at least see what transpires for myself.
As I was leaving the day care this morning, I walked down the hallway past the 4-year-olds’ classroom. (if you’re saying to yourself, ‘Hey! Lizzy’s 4. Why isn’t she in with the 4-year-olds?’ Boy, you don’t want to get me ranting about that. Suffice to say, SHE SHOULD BE.)
So the 4-year-olds are planning a field trip soon, as well. Where to? Well. Disney on Ice, as it turns out.
Sing for old people.
Disney on Ice.
Sing for old people.
Disney on Ice…
Gee. Some field trip disparity there, or what?
When I'm all grown up, I want to be as good a dad as Matt!
ReplyDelete