In my last post I mentioned that my 4-year-old daughter apparently has a penchant for bad boys and promise the story in a later post. Here it is. All names have been changed.
One day as we were driving home from daycare, The Punkin announced "I'm going to marry Tony and Rhodey."
"Well," I respond, "Marriages usually work better if you choose just one."
Silence. I think I confused her, possibly because one of her grandmothers has had three husbands. I decide to take a different tack.
"Which one are you going to marry first?" This one she can answer.
"Tony," she replies without missing a beat. Poor Rhodey. Or maybe poor Tony. He's apparently going to be the starter husband.
The next morning I repeat this story to the daycare director, who also happens to be Rhodey's mother.
"Oh no," Ms. Rhodes commisserates. "Those are the two who give their teacher the most trouble. They are always into something."
Perhaps this is just a warning salvo. A heads-up at the age of 4 so that we can be on our toes when she's a teenager.
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