Yesterday, Caio, my 5 year-old going on 35, (the same one squeezing Thomas and one of his friends’ in his hands) made the following statement: “Mom, I don’t think I am going to get married. I think I am going to live alone. It is easier, it is better.” Uh? What?
I swear it was just like that, with those words, no foreplay. And to what I replied: “But son, why?” And the answer was as complex as the first statement: “It is too complicated, mom. I don’t know if I can marry Roberta Antunes (all children these days know each other’s full names, don’t ask me why) because Rodrigo Lima also wants to. And I am not sure if it will work with Fernanda Silva and I certainly don’t want to marry Marília Teixeira. So mom, isn’t it simpler just to be alone, really?”
And I tried: “- but son, it is so good to live with someone…”
To no avail. Caio has decided, age 5, that being alone is less complicated. I hope he learns in the “few” years to come, before he is a grown man, that although complicated, being with someone is great, and it is worth it.
This marriage thing was stuck in his head, because, in the afternoon, he said to his grandparents he was marrying Roberta Antunes. And grandpa and grandma happily replied “we will be there.” And Caio immediately said: “I don’t think so. I think you will be buried, and I think you will be already a skeleton, because you are so old”. (He said that quite naturally, as a statement of fact, no harm intended.)
Cuak!