Today I happened to drive by the church where Kory and I got married. I pointed it out to the boys, which got them wondering about Mommy and Daddy’s wedding. They insisted on watching our wedding video and then couldn’t understand why they were nowhere to be seen in it.
We laughed and explained that they didn’t show up until a few years later. But apparently the seeds of romance finally cracked Monkey’s girls-are-yucky shell. We went out for dinner, and who should happen to sit in the booth next to us, but a certain cutie pie classmate of Monkey’s.
The two chattered happily over the back of the booth, but soon I noticed Monkey slouching back into his seat, randomly hiding his eyes or his forehead or his cheeks, and wearing a decidedly goofy grin.
Soon he whispered the reason for his agitation. “I want to ask her to marry me, but I don’t know how to do it.”
Kory and I grinned to each other then explained that maybe, instead of proposing matrimony, Monkey could simply ask his friend over for a playdate.
But the heart will do what the heart will do. Monkey shuffled through the napkins, sweetener packets, and silverware on the table until he found the complimentary crayons that came with his kids’ menu. Then he smoothed out the strip of paper that had secured the napkin around the silverware and began to write.
Like a caricature of a lovesick poet, he crumpled his first attempt and tossed it aside. He started over with another scrap of paper and this time, he managed to convey his crucial message.
He passed this compelling note over the back of the seat and was favored with a shy smile from his beloved.
I’m sorry to say, this story has a sad ending. The lady in question turned him down. We explained to our moping son that he should wait until he’s grown up and then perhaps try again. He promptly pounced over the seat and proposed again with the “grown-up” proviso clearly stated.
Alas, shut down once again.
He collapsed back into his seat. His dejected little face made my heart squeeze. I searched for words to console my seven-year-old, but as it turns out, the stages of rebound are considerably shorter for an elementary kid.
He stuck his lower lip out. “I really wanted her to marry me.”
He sighed and crossed his arms. “Now what am I gonna do?”
His brows lifted and his eyes widened. “Hey, I could find another girl!”
And there you have it, the age old truth from a seven-year-old. There are other fish in the sea.
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