I can't help but pray that a child did this. Should that be the case, this picture restores a little of my faith in the future of the world.
Speaking of children, my Granny just asked me when she could be expecting some great-grandchildren. Now. I had hoped to be spared this conversation, for numerous reasons.
1) The obvious. I'm not married. Hell, I'm not even close. Now, thank GOD no one in my family has started to harp on this subject. Because if (ok, when) they do, I shall be forced to scream, curse, and probably throw (soft) objects at their heads.
1a) Both my parents were married to other people before they found each other. Should they ever bug me about marriage, I'll gladly remind them I'd prefer to never suffer a divorce and just wait around for the one who will be right all along instead.
1b) Ok, I got nothin' but I was told you can't have an a without a b.
2) I'm second in line on my Dad's side. Go bug Lexie.
3) My mother had me when she was 32. She was 41 when Evan was born. My father was 36 and 45, respectively. This buys me at least 6 more years. Done and done.
4) You don't get to ask for great-grandbabies. Parents get to ask for grandchildren. Maybe. When their kids have been safely and happily married for at least 2-5 years. You're welcome to remind me of this when I'm 75. Promise.
Whenever anyone sees me with children, they ask if I have any. My knee-jerk response is always "NO! I'm only 25!" And then I take a beat and say a silent prayer for the fact that it is 2008 and not 1908.
And THAT is how I feel about that.
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