August 13, 2004
I had the most precious conversation with William last night and I’m writing it out because I want to remember every detail. It was almost bedtime and he was lying on the bed with me. He was still wearing one of his favorite t-shirts, a blue one with a T. Rex riding in a monster truck. His baby-blond hair needs to be cut and he has a mosquito bite right between his eyebrows. His eyes were so big and brown, so earnest as we discussed his plan.
“Mommy, when I get bigger, I’m going to get a girl.”
“A girl? You mean a daughter, like Katie? Or a wife, like I am to Daddy?”
“I don’t know exactly. I want her to be about my size. I think a four year old girl.”
“What are you going to do with this girl?”
He hid facedown on the bed, while he tried to come up with his answer. “Guess,” he said, clearly stalling.
“Go eat in a restaurant together? Go to the movies? Give her flowers?” I guessed.
“No. Keep guessing.”
“Listen to music? Drive a car? Read books together?”
“No. We’re going to go get donuts. And I’m going to let her go in.” I smiled. Going in is a huge thing with William.
“Then I will buy her some flowers and we will get married.” I was unprepared for the pang I felt when he said that! “Where’s the marrying place?” he asked.
“Church. You get married at church.”
“Where did you and Daddy get married?”
I was impressed with this question. I don’t think he’s ever acknowledged that we’re married before. “We got married at Nana & Terry’s church.” He seemed very pleased that we’d gotten married there.
“After the donuts and the flowers and the marryin’ we’re going to get on a boat.”
What?! He’s planning a honeymoon?! I tried to stay calm. Maybe I misunderstood. “A boat, sweetie?”
“Yes, a boat. You know, sails on the water,” he pantomimed with his hand and made the sound of a boat’s horn.
“What are you going to do on the boat?”
“I’m going to show her the dolphins and the sharks.” How romantic. “Then after we’re done on the boat, you can drive us to the museum and drop us off and pick us up later. I want to show her the T. Rex and the pteranodon and the triceratops. Then we’ll come home and I’ll dance with her. How many things is that?”
We reviewed his plans and came up with five things: the donuts, the marrying, the boat, the museum and the dancing. As pleased as he was with his plan, I was about to cry. He’ll be doing some version of all five things, maybe not in that order, maybe not with dinosaurs figuring so prominently, but he’ll be doing it, and he’ll be doing it before I realize where the time went.