Waiting five years to get married is, apparently, too difficult for our little bride. (A common problem here at Southern.) Anaya decked herself out in her white angel costume this afternoon and announced that she was marrying Daddy. ("I'm just going to pretend he hasn't gotten married to someone else," she confided.) After a very brief ceremony (Daddy was ironing), she proceeded to the kitchen to announce herself to me as a married woman. "Mommy, I'm married! Now I'm going to get a baby in my tummy!" She giggled. "Boy, that will be a lot of responsi-BIL-ity."
"Are you sure you want to have one now?" I asked. "That's pretty fast."
She was certain. Full of glee, she stuffed Seth's doll up her shirt and strutted around the house for a while. "Mommy, how many days did you have the baby in your tummy before it came out?" she asked.
"Nine months."
"Hmm. Okay." Her nine months flew, because a few minutes later I heard some grunting and groaning in the other room, followed by a triumphant cry. Anaya dashed to me, a doll wrapped in a blanket in her arms. "Isn't she BYOO-tiful?"
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