I’m sure that, at some point in life, all children become aware of their parents relationship (For the record, we’re not using the word euphemistically at this time). In our house, that happened this weekend. For those of you related to either of us, or those of you bothered by kissing, you may want to skip this one.
Jeff and I were being cuddly on the couch. Also, not euphemistic. Well, partially. We were kissing. Deeply. Possibly making out.
Fiona enters the scene. She had been in the other room.
She cocks her head to the side. “Mommy! Daddy! What are you doing?” She demands answers with the curiosity of a three-year-old and the accusatory tone of a child who has caught their parents kissing.
“Being married.” Jeff answers with the frustration of a man who is not going to get what he wants and knows it.
She pauses for a second. “Can I be married too?” She asks.
“Yep,” I answers. “Who do you want to marry?”
“Mommy!” She answers. Then sounds worried, “And Daddy! Can I marry both of you? We should all three be married.”
I start laughing and can’t stop. She climbs on top of us and starts trying to lick me.
I laugh harder. “Mommy! Hold still! I want to be marry to you!”
Struggling to not fall off the couch, to stop laughing and to avoid the waving tongue of my three-year-old, I try to explain. “Fiona, Baby, you can’t marry Mommy or Daddy. We’re already family. It’s like being married, but you don’t have to do anything. You were born part of us. We had to get married to be part of each other.”
She waves her tongue again and catches my shoulder.
“Ick!” I say. “Mommy and Daddy were kissing. Can you give me a kiss?”
I am the recipient of a kiss with a little too much tongue on the cheek. So is Jeff. Fiona wraps her little arms around us both, “We are family!” She announces. Then slides back off of us to go back to playing, with the words, “When I am bigger and bigger, then I will marry you both!”