A Series of Conversations with Felicity:
(While in the car)
F: Mom, when I gonna get married?
Me: Oh, probably when you’re 20 or so.
F: Hmm.
Me: Who are you going to marry?
F: Daddy.
(While in Target)
F: I just need some flowers. Then I can get married.
Me: You just need flowers? Then you can get married?
F: Yeah. I need some flowers. There’s some flowers over there.
Me: What are you going to wear?
F: I don’t know.
(While getting dressed for church)
F: Maybe I can wear this dress to get married.
Mr. French: Oh, but you’ll be a grown up when you get married. You’re a little girl now. This dress won’t fit you when you get married.
F: I’m going to marry you.
Mr. French: Oh, honey. But I already married Mommy, so I can’t marry you. I can only be married to one person.
F: Oh.
Mr. French: When you get older you’ll find a nice Christian man to marry.
F: I don’t want to marry that guy.
(Later that evening.)
F: I changed my mind. I’m not going to marry Daddy.
Me: You’re not?
F: No. ‘Cause you already married Daddy. (sigh.) I’m going to marry my best friend instead.
(At Target. Again.)
F: Mom, are you going to get those flowers for when I get married?
Me: Hmm, maybe.
F: I don’t want roses. I just want flowers.
F: Mom, I know I can’t marry Daddy. Be-tause Daddy already marry you.
Me: Yes, that’s true.
F: I just wish I could marry Daddy. I wish I could still marry Daddy.
F: Why are you laughing? It’s not funny.