marriage

My Mother’s name was Mary and like her name she lived a plain and uneventful life without thunder, her birth however was another story. She was born in 1927 in a tent city in Bowlegs Oklahoma during a smallpox epidemic. She was born into extreme poverty and was premature at 4½ lbs. My grandmother had been caring for her sisters and their children who had smallpox. To get to them she rode in a wagon 15 miles each way over a rutted and bumpy road which is believed to have caused early labor.

This afternoon, on our way home from the math tutor, my daughter C asked me this question: "Who would you have married if you didn't marry daddy?"

At this point in my parenting career I've learned a few lessons, one of which is that after your kids gets to be about six, it's impossible to pull the wool over their eyes. Maybe it's the tone of your voice or your averted gaze when you're telling that "little white lie"--I'm not sure--but somehow they always know when you're not being straight with them.