First Comes Love…

And onto more strange conversations, this time with Me Too.

She asked me today if she had to get married when she grew up. The answer, of course, is “no.”

Her reply is, “Good. Because I want to live with you forever.” (Cute, right? Wonder if she’ll still feel that way when she’s a teenager.) I tell her that even if she does get married, she’s always welcome to live with me. Gotta love that about Japan!

She gets excited then, and says that she’ll have lots of babies and we’ll take care of them together. Big Brother proclaims, all knowing six year old that he is, that she has to be married to have babies.

I don’t really like where this conversation is going, but I plod on in. My policy is to give them correct information (no storks,) but keep it age appropriate. “No, you don’t actually have to be married,” I say.

Me Too answers, “That’s good, cause I don’t like mans.”

I tell her she’ll probably meet a man she likes more than Mommy some day, but if that doesn’t happen, we’ll talk about the babies again when she’s 35.

That seemed to be good enough for her for now. Whew.

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