At least he doesn't have to worry about exploding torsos anymore

I came back from the farmer's market on Sunday, and had barely gotten my bags sorted when the boy casually remarked:

"So, when do I get to marry you?"

Wow. I hadn't even bought him any cinnabons.

"You don't get to marry me."

"What?!" He set down his game. "Why not!?"

"There's a law that you can't marry your mother. You'd get arrested."

He looked shocked. "Nuh-uh."

"Also, I'm already married to Daddy."

"That's not fair. I should be married to you. He's had a turn." I love it when the same terms used for the 360 are applied to me.

"That's just the way it is, sweetie."

At that point, he burst into tears.

"But I want to be married!"

"You'll be married one day. Just not to me. And only once you're an adult."

"Life is not fair!"

I finally got him to calm down with a gift of an edition of Captain Underpants, but I did think it only fair to warn IB. And to let him know that he still has competition.

Still. I'm a bit pissed off every time Freud actually has a valid opinion about something.