January is our granddaughter Molly’s birthday month – she’ll be four years old on the 26th., but if you ask her when she’ll be four, she often says “on my birthday” with a withering look designed to stop any follow up questions. Molly is her own person, the second child in birth order.
During the winter school holidays recently, Nana overheard Molly talking with a little girl and boy she had been playing with on a neighborhood playground. It was a gorgeous sunny afternoon in South Carolina – a day that makes you want to forgive almost anything in the state. Almost anything.
The play time had paused while the three children appeared to be in deep conversation. Molly was clearly upset when her older sister Ella joined the small group.
“I asked Mia to marry me,” Molly blurted. “She told me no because girls can’t marry girls.” She was almost in tears when she looked at Mia who nodded as Daniel chimed in.
“That’s right,” Daniel said in a louder voice. “Girls marry boys. They don’t marry other girls.”
“My Nana did,” Ella told the threesome with the authority of a taller six-year-old child whose wisdom was not to be disputed.
Mia and Daniel stared at Ella while Molly’s expression brightened. Then the little group dispersed and ran off to play on the slides together. Molly knew she was right because her big sister Ella said so.
The Beginning.
(image of children is AI generated)
I'll Call It Like I See It 