I guess I've got marriage on my mind today, which isn't all that surprising. In about 2 hours, we will be attending the wedding of our niece, my older brother's only daughter. She appears to have chosen her mate quite wisely, and this glorious day is sure to be filled with laughter, joy, and [happy] tears. (And I've heard that my brother and his girl have prepared something hilarious for the father-daughter dance, so there's that to look forward to.)
When I was 9 (way back in 1967), I had my husband all picked out. I was totally, madly in love with John Cowsill, a member of a singing group called the Cowsills. There were six siblings in the group, along with their mother--and they were the inspiration for the TV show "The Partridge Family," as a matter of fact. I had one of their albums, which I played over and over on my little record-player-in-a-cardboard-suitcase. (Do any of you fifty-somethings out there remember those? So much cooler than iPods, am I right?)
I've blogged about John Cowsill before, in case you missed that little gem of a blog post called "Diary of a (Very) Young Girl." He was my first serious crush, and in typical 9-year-old-girl style, I daydreamed about marrying him when I grew up...which makes the theme of this post "Careful What You Wish For." Not that he wasn't a cutie pie. I mean, look at this All-American freckle-faced kid.
I didn't know my husband when he was 9; but I've seen pictures and he, too, was an All-American freckle-faced cutie pie. The difference is that this is what he looks like today, after 33 years of marriage...
Marriage is certainly not something to be taken lightly, is it? Husbands should not be chosen by 9-year-olds from the pages of 16 Magazine, that's for sure!