Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me a Match

Today my son regaled us with the tale of his sister's arranged marriage. Earlier in the day, my friend did a sweet favor by watching my son, Owen, so I could attend my daughter's assembly at school. It works out well this way as our children are about exactly the same age and each other's best friends, both the girls and boys respectively. Our daughters, Jenna and Claire, are 6 and 7, both in first grade, and both obsessed with princesses. Our sons, Owen and Camren, are 3 and 4, in preschool, and both quite interested in trains, cars and pretty much anything else that has wheels.

Back to the story.

At dinner Owen piped up, "Today Camren told me that he's going to marry Jenna and kiss her when he grows older." Then he proceeded to tell us about how he gave Camren his permission and was quite excited as he related the details. The crowning moment in the story was when he said that they were going to go to the doctor for the ceremony. Apparently, in his little 3 year old mind, the doctor is the one who does the wedding! On top of this, he said that Camren was going to take Jenna home and she was going to sleep-at this point, I thought he was going to say in Camren's bed, at which point I was going to be quite mortified, but luckily he didn't-in Claire's room. Wow. I'm not sure how in depth the conversation went from there, but needless to say, I had an impossibly hard time trying to hold my laughter in.

Later, after hearing the story, Jenna simply replied, "But I don't want to marry Camren, I'm going to marry my brother." She's been saying that since he was an infant. I mean fresh out of the womb. Someday we'll clear up the matter if need be, but for now their sweet innocence and love for one another are priceless. Especially in the midst of increasingly frequent bickering, teasing, fighting and colliding!

My kids kill me. That's all I have to say on the matter. Oh, and I LOVE them!