“Sally and Michael sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G. First comes loves, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage.”
I used to sing this all the time in elementary school. Lately, I’ve been thinking my mom wants me just to skip to “then comes marriage” and forget about “first comes love”. Not that I’m getting hitched anytime soon, I haven’t managed to lock down a boyfriend. At the ripe old age of 21 there is enormous pressure to settle down. I think my mother is amused with her “post-date” inquisition, although it is short lived:
Mom: Hey Jenny, how was your date?
Jenny: Hey Mom. It went well. He was nice
Mom: Well, do you think your going to marry him?
Jenny: Mom !
End of conversation.
My parents moved in together pretty quickly, so perhaps her line of questioning isn’t that off base. How do you know if the man you just went on a date with is going to be your Husband? Is it possible that he went home and asked himself the same question? I feel like this is the kind of thing that happens in the movies. You go on an excellent date; the kind that lacks any awkward pauses and you skip over that awkward moment where you aren’t sure if he’s going to lean in and kiss you or just give you an awkward hug goodbye. Soon after you are seeing fireworks and the stars look just right while the moon glows around you like a perfectly positioned spotlight.
I don’t think this is real life. I do think, however, you can fall in love at first sight or on a first date. At the same time, it is possible to have more than one great love in your lifetime. Look at my great grandmother ! She was married three times. She may have outlived all of her husbands but she loved each of them dearly.