J brought home his pictures today. After all we went through on Picture day, now this:
"Mom, I don't like my smile. I don't think that Olivia C. will draw a heart around my face in the yearbook. Can I have redoos?"
Redoos sound great. Can I have life redoos?
'Will you, um, marry me?' I haven't seen you in weeks! You don't look happy or excited about the prospect of our marriage! You're asking me to give up my - my freedom, my joie de vivre for an institution that fails as often as it succeeds? And why should I marry you anyway? I mean, why do you wanna marry me? Besides some bourgeois desire to fulfill an ideal that society embeds in us from an early age to promote a consumer capitalist agenda?