We've established a lovely tradition after swim lessons with some lesbo-mom friends of ours. These friends of ours have two kids, one 6, the other 2, and the SYO has swim lessons at the Y with the FYO. After the lessons, we head across the street for a little coffee snack and some muffins.
Last Saturday, one of the other moms heard the following conversation between the FYO and the SYO while they were playing dolls with the handy chess set:
SYO: Why don't we have the king marry the king?
FYO: It can't happen like that.
Our trusty PC companion intervened in her least-judgmental manner: Of course it can!
The FYO, having been rebuked in this way before, shrugged it off.
What's amazing is that the FYO's REALITY is peppered with kings marrying kings and queens marrying queens. But as soon as she ventures into make-believe-land, such a variation is impossible in her eyes.
I guess that's better than my reality. We can't REALLY get married, so we essentially PRETEND to be married. Just the opposite of the FYO.