I was totally blindsided (as usual) when my then 16-year-old son dropped what is arguably the most important question since, “Where do babies come from?” over dinner one night: “Mom, how did you know who to marry? I mean, how did you know that Dad was the right one for you?”
Oy! Can’t we just eat dinner in peace?
My natural instinct to brainwash his perception for the sole purpose of ensuring that I end up with a suitable daughter-in-law was mitigated by a rare moment of clarity, which highlighted the implications of my response. The idea of slowing down and taking a moment goes against my grain, but for my husband, it’s very natural. Especially in these situations, when he automatically employs his self-mute button and not so subtly gestures to me, “It’s all you.”