He was probably five years old, and C was two. Out of the blue, he asked me with a seriousness of which only my eldest is capable:
“Mommy? Can you marry sisters?”
“Uhhhh…. why?” I responded.
“When I grow up, I want to marry C,” he said.
“Oh, that’s sweet, honey. Why? Because you love her so much?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he replied. “And because she’s so pretty.”
And I melted. He’s such a sweet, sensitive Little Guy.