I'm Going To Da Chapel And I'm Gonna Get Mahweed

Last night Finn was getting drowsy, and he wandered up to me, dragging his blanket behind him, and said, "Momma, let's sit and talk about our day."

We plunked down on the couch, he snuggled up against my side and we sat quietly for a moment.

"I'm gonna be a Dad someday," he said.

"You will be a great Dad," I replied.

"I'm gonna have twelve kids."

"TWELVE?"  I said.  "You're going to be very busy."

"Dat's okay.  And if dey are bad, I'm gonna send dem to dey rooms, like you and Dadda do."

"What are you going to do if they are good?"  I asked.

"I'm going to give dem candy.  And if dey are willy good I'm gonna take dem to da arcade!"

 He paused for a moment, then said, "I'm gonna mahwey Wen [Ren] and Emily."   

"You can only marry one person, though," I said.   "You'd have to pick one."

He screwed up his face, and said, "But I love dem both!"

"You have time to figure it out, it's okay."

After a minute he said, "I don't wanna get mahweed, because den you hafta kiss."

"Hmmm, that's true, usually people kiss when they get married."

"I know what I will do.   I'll blow a kiss, like dis." he said, and kissed his hand and blew me a kiss, giggling.

"Will you stay four forever, please?" I joked.  

"Sorry, Momma.  I hafta grow up.   I don't know how I do it, but my bones just keep getting biggah.   I eat da helfy stuff and I get strong muscles and I grow and grow."

"You are getting to be a very big kid."

He stroked my face, and said, "I'll live next door to you, if you want.  Den you can see me every day."

"I'd like that."

"Can I live here forevah if I want?" 

"Sure," I said.  "But not if you have twelve kids.   There won't be enough rooom."

He frowned.  "Oh, yeah."   He thought for a moment.  "Maybe I will only have six kids, den."

He put his head down on my lap, and I rubbed his hair.   

"I love you, Momma,"  he said, sleepily.

"I love you, too, Finn."