When I tucked the girls in on Wednesday, Mary was having yet another hard day. She seemed to think her life was awful. Since she seems to have semi-permanently adopted this attitude, I took it upon myself to tell her what a hard day would actually look like. I described in detail the skin lesions of Victorian chimney sweep children, the hardships of children living through war, and what poor children in third world countries endure. I told her she was so lucky that not only does she not have any of those problems, but she was born to parents who love her and love each other. Some parents, I told her, don’t get along and some even get divorced. I concluded by telling her that childhood is a modern concept and that before this idea was invented, children have been expected to be mini-adults and work hard without any special treatment for being children.
It might have been a tad bit graphic of a conversation, but by the end Mary said she wasn’t having a hard day anymore. When I got to the part about children who have parents who don’t like each other, she raised her hand and asked this question: “Wait, I’m so confused. I thought you just walked around until you found someone you liked and then married them. Why would you not like your husband?” Lydia chimed in: “Yeah, the only time you and dad have ever argued was about what color my eyes are!”
I’m pretty sure Abe and I have had more disagreements than that, but it felt nice to see that the girls can’t even conceive of a world where their parents don’t get along. That felt like a win. Thank you, Abe, for being the best best best BEST husband ever!!! You couldn’t be easier to get along with. I love you.