I was never one of those girls who “dreamed” of my wedding at the ripe age of 4. I have heard those stories, and think I was just too practical. What I have dreamed of, however, was the day that my son would look at me and say “I’m going to marry mama”. I had it all planned out – I’d have to tell him that dada was my husband and that mamas and sons couldn’t marry. But inside I’d be beaming that my son loved me so much that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.
After all, aren’t all little boys supposed to want to marry their mamas, and all little girls supposed to want to marry their dadas until they are informed otherwise? Apparently not.
Tonight Jake picked up a cute little UPS box that housed my best friend’s bridal shower invites. By the way, they are gorgeous, beautiful invites, but I’ll save that for a different post. Shaking the box up and down (gasp, stop please!), he asked me what they were. This was my moment, I could feel it coming!!!
“Jake, those are invites to a party for Chris. She’s marrying Dave, and we are having a party for her.”
He looked up at me with the sweetest, most sincere smile…I knew it was coming. And he sweetly said:
“I’m going to marry…big R”
Yes, the girl in his class. His first love. It’s been getting a little serious, as evidenced by my previous post on this subject (http://wp.me/pFD0A-6D).
I’ve trained him well – his “kisses” are saved for me (he withholds them from grandma for that sole reason), but clearly his heart belongs to others. And that is a lesson I’m sure I will learn over and over and over…