Since Valentine's Day is approaching and love is in the air, I thought this might be a good time to share a little tidbit Evie recently shared with me:
Evie: Mom, I know who I'm going to marry to. [Yes, this girl is a preposition-dangling queen (or at least 
princess)
!]
Me: You do? Who?
Evie: I'm going to marry to Tristan. The next time I see him, I'm going to ask him if he wants to marry to me.
 
 Tristan (around 6 months?) and Evie (around 2 years), scowling about their forced western wear
Me: You're going to marry him the next time you see him???
Evie: 
No! I'm just going to 
ask him if he 
wants to marry to me. When we're grownups. When we're thirteen.
Me: Ah. Thirteen.
Evie: Yeah. I know where we're going to live, too.
Me: You do? Where?
 
 Tristan (around 1 year) and Evie (around 2 1/2 years) snackin' outside
Evie: In Minnesota. I mean, if we don't have 
kids we're going to live in Minnesota. If we 
do have kids, we're going to live in...where's that place where they lived in 
The Sound of Music?
Me: Austria?
Evie: Yeah. Austria. If we have kids, we're going to live in the house where Maria and the Captain and all those kids lived in Austria. We're going to need a big house if we have kids.
Me: Hmmm. That 
was a big house.
Evie: Yeah. Can I have a snack?
I'm not sure if I should be worried or not about Evie proposing marriage. The first time we had a talk along these lines was when we were reading the 
Little House on the Prairie series, and the book talked about Laura Ingalls having a 
beau. Evie was curious about what "having a beau" meant, and after I explained, she told me she thought she knew who she was going to marry (or, of course, "marry to"): Peyton. Her cousin.
Before I go on, you must know that when I was around Evie's age, I was pretty sure I was going to marry my cousin, Matt, and when I told my mom about it, I distinctly remember her laughing. She laughed pretty hard, in fact. I wasn't scarred for life or anything, but I really didn't like feeling ridiculous.
So, when Evie told me she was going to marry her cousin, I forced myself to keep a straight face, and said something nondescript, like, "Oh. Yes, Peyton is a nice boy."
"Yes," she replied, "I was going to marry to Laurel,"--Laurel is Peyton's sister, by the way--"but she is a girl, so I picked Peyton because he is a boy and I have to marry to a boy." At least she has that part figured out, right?
Anyway, Tristan is a non-female, non-blood relation, so we're on the right track. He's also a sweet little boy and the son of a very dear and long-time friend, so that's a definite plus. But can't we wait a few years before we start thinking about these things???

Evie (4 1/2), Mr. B, and Tristan (3) at the beach