Here Comes The Bride...

My daughter Avery is getting married.

Bear in mind that she is only six and a half years old.

Last night on the way home from soccer, Avery put her soccer ball under her shirt, and laughingly told the rest of us that she was having a baby.

Then she said "I'm 20 and I'm having a baby!"

"You'd better not be 20 and having a baby," I warned her.

"Why not?" Avery asked.

"Uh, because 20 is a bit young to be having babies. Daddy and I would like you to be a wee bit older than that," I answered her. "Plus, we'd like you to be married first, too."

(Don't anyone get their knickers in a knot here, we make no bones about the fact that we are practicing Catholics and we're not going to change our preferences to be more politically correct-yes, we know that people get pregnant before they get married...I am a product of one such union, so let's move along, shall we?)

"I am going to be married," announced my daughter. "To Matthew."

"Fillman?" I croaked. (Matthew is our next door neighbor.)

I said the first thing that popped into my head.

"But he's not Catholic," I told Avery. (see note above for any of you getting hot under the collar-besides, I was joking-we are not going to disown our kids if they marry non-Catholics-for crying out loud, I've only been one for 4 years...)

"That's ok," said Avery, smiling serenely. "He can become one."

"Um, does Matthew know about this plan?" I asked.

"No," answered Avery.

"Well, are you going to let him in on it?" I asked, trying not to laugh out loud.

"I'll let him know when I'm 7," Avery informed me.

"Ah, I see," I said. "And have you set a date for this momentous occasion?"

"September 1," Avery answered. "Some year."

And that is when I did laugh.