Thursday, June 16, 2011


Last night, the New York assembly approved our state's same-sex marriage bill.  I've been following the developments with a feeling that I can only characterize as guarded optimism.  Oh, how I would love to be able to marry Kathy in our own state, rather than having to schlep off across state lines like a second-class citizen.  The ironic thing is that we may ultimately decide to get married in Connecticut or Massachusetts anyway, for other reasons.  But there is a big difference between getting married somewhere because you choose to, and getting married there because they're the only ones who will have you, don't you think?

(obligatory pic of lesbian wedding cake topper)

As if in tune with the fact that our brains have been buzzing with thoughts about marriage lately, at breakfast this morning, C said to Kathy, out of nowhere, "Come ON!  When are you going to marry her?"  Kathy laughed, and said, "Who?" although obviously, she knew exactly who he meant -- but we are trying to train the kids not to talk about someone as if they are not there, when they are actually standing right in front of you.  Anyway, he said, "ERIN!" as if Kathy were the dumbest person on the planet.

This is a tricky one for us, because Kathy's divorce is, excruciatingly, not yet final (thanks to Kathy's (ex)husband's stellar stalling tactics).  But we diligently avoid saying negative things about the kids' dad, and, considering how badly the kids seem to want us to get married, saying that he has been dragging his feet on the divorce for years and years, so that we can't actually get married yet, kinda falls into the "bad things about dad" camp.  So Kathy artfully dodged this little tidbit of information by responding, "Well, I have to ask her, and she has to say 'yes' before we can get married.  What if she says 'no'?"

C, ever logical, responded, "Well, then, we will have to force her."  Clearly.  Sigh.  Sometimes I do have to say that boys are wired a bit differently.  I think I can safely say it would never occur to the girls to propose marriage-by-conquest.

"How are we going to do that?" 

"Well," C replied thoughtfully, "I could smack her bum for you.  Then you could tickle her until she says 'yes.'"  I guess if I have to be conquered, a bum-smack from a 5 year old and tickling doesn't sound too bad. 

Although maybe I should just put C out of his misery and assure him that, once all logistical barriers are removed, I absolutely cannot wait to marry his mom.

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