Love and marriage, love and marriage...la la la

A long time ago, a family very dear to my heart had a son after two daughters.

I was about 14 maybe and in a conversation with her she told me that it was her intention to raise her son up to be a godly man.  That conversation stuck with me.

Now I have two boys of my own, and although there are days when my only hope is to make it to bedtime without losing my sanity - I now desire the same thing for my sons: To raise them into godly men.

But a little touch of romantic wouldn't be so bad either...

With that said, I am working to teach Luke how to be a gentleman.  I am teaching him to treat women like princesses (please excuse me feminists who would much rather open their own door...) to open doors for them, to wait for girls to go first, to compliment and be gentle with them.

I have taught Luke how to ask girls to dance with him (living in a home with 3 of us, he has lots of practice) and so now he will politely ask Emma, "May I please have this dance?"  He then puts one arm on her waist and the other holding her hand, gently spins her and then kisses her on her cheek.

I know I will probably kick myself when he is sixteen and these gentlemanly gestures are getting him into precarious situations...but nonetheless...

Yesterday as we were leaving the grocery store that also has a jewelry store in it, we had to do our ritualistic stop to get a magazine so Emma could look to see what diamond she wants Daddy to buy her when she is all grown up (which happens to be the ripe old age of...5)  But yesterday, Luke asked if he could get one too.

"Um, why Buddy?"

"I need to pick out what ring I am going to buy my mother."

"You are going to buy me a ring?"

"No Mommy, not you, my mother."

"Buddy, I am your mother."

As he puts his hand on his head, as if he is totally exasperated at my complete ignorance regarding the things of love, he emphasizes again, "Mommy, I will all grow up and marry my MOTHER."

"Oh Luke, you mean your wife?"

"Ya, ya, ya...my wife."

I then proceed to buckle him and we begin to drive home.  After a bit of silence he says, "But Mommy, I don't know my wife's name."

"I know you don't Honey.  But you know who does?"

"Who?"

"God does.  He already knows which woman you are going to marry when you grow up."

"WHAT?!?!?!  I don't want to marry a woman, I want to marry a girl."

"Well, a woman is a grown up girl."

"You are a woman?"

"Yes buddy, and you will become a man."

"But I don't want to be a man, I want to be a boy!  Mommy, I'm a boy!"

"Well, women are grown up girls and men are grown up boys.  Daddy is a man."

"He is?"

"Yep."

"Hmmm....." and after another long bout of silence he begins, "I will all grow up into a man and my girl will grow into a moman (yes, moman) and then we get married.  Then I become a father and she becomes my mother..."  (At this point, I decided not to correct...I mean, he will figure it out, eventually right?)

"Mommy?"

"Yes Luke?"

"Bella says I can marry her.  I will marry Bella and she will become my mother."

"Whatever Luke."

At this point he threw the magazine on the floor of the van in frustration.

"What's going on, Luke?"

"There is nothing good in here for my mother."

Ok, he's four...we have plenty of time.  And then Emma speaks up...

"Mommy, I know what my daughter's name is."

"Your daughter?  You already know what your daughter's name is?"

"Yes.  Uncle Seneca."

"Uncle Seneca?  That's a silly name for a daughter."

"Ok, Patrick."

"You mean your future husband?"

"Ya, ya, ya."

"Oh, ok.  Because you are my daughter.  You are going to marry your husband."

"Oh...then I know what my husband's name is."

"Oh, really?"

"Uncle Seneca."


Aunt Cathleen might have an issue with that one sweetie.