More questions and the single mom

I believe it's a truth universally acknowledged that kids come up with the craziest questions and parents struggle and ponder and grasp at straws for ways to answer them. "Why is the sky blue? How do airplanes fly?"

My son is no exception to this rule. Regular readers of this blog may recall I've had such gems in the past as "Do bears have belly buttons?" and "What are my nipples for?"

In fact, it seems my son has entered an age where he asks so many random questions at such a regular pace that I'm just going to start reporting them from time to time on this blog -- short little entries to give you a peek into the outright bizarre conversations I have with my son (that occur, almost without exception, in the car).

Here are a few gems that came up during a weekend drive to Atlanta (all those silent miles to fill -- of course it was a treasure trove of strange musings):

-Can George Washington see us from heaven?

That one first got started with my son asking some question about Abraham Lincoln (where that came from in the first place, I haven't the foggiest notion). When I told him Lincoln was the president a long time ago, he asked who the very first president was. Then he asked if we could see him one day, at which point I had to break the sad news that George Washington had long since died. That's when I got the above query.

-Does it hurt when you die? (Obvious follow up on the death of George Washington discussion.)

And the piece de resistance: How will I find a wife?

"How will I find a wife?" Where does he come up with these things? That was totally out of the blue, too. We weren't having any kind of discussion about marriage, wives, husbands or even family -- not even George Washington's wife.

Just, bam -- "How will I find a wife?"

Warning: here comes the mushy, snuggly part of today's post.

I told him that when he got older, he'd meet someone and fall in love and maybe get married.

"No, Mommy. I want to marry you."

All together now: "Aawwww."

I didn't bother to dissuade him from that path. He'll grow out of it soon enough, and for now I'll just revel in being the biggest love in my son's heart.