My five-year old daughter and I went on our usual evening walk yesterday, looking for flowers, leaves, twigs, birds, cats and dogs. It was a very peaceful and a happy walk. She was singing to herself and chatting with me once in a while. Then, suddenly, I was involved in a conversation with her which left me speechless, to say the least, for a while.
“Ma, I want to marry a very nice person when I grow up,” she said.
“Ofcourse, dear, that is what one must always do,” I said, sending my prayers and wishes to the Almighty above to fulfill her wish.
“And you are not going to tell me to marry this person or that. I will choose on my own,” she clarified.
“Ofcourse, ” I promised, as if I had another choice.
“Tell me, how did you and Papa get married?” she asked.
“Well, we met with each other and then we decided to marry,” I explained.
“No, who said what?” she demanded.
“When we met with each other, your Papa asked me if I would marry him,” I elaborated.
“Then what did you say?” she pushed on.
“I said ‘Yes, I would marry you’,” I replied.
She smiled to herself with some newly acquired wisdom.
“You know, you married a very nice person,” she said wisely (as if there is another hero for her in this world at this moment!).
I controlled my laughter, my overwhelming love for her and simply said, “Thank you.”
I returned home to narrate the conversation to my husband. He was speechless for a few minutes, though I am sure thrilled about the hero-worship, and then he asked, as all fathers of daughters always do, “Don’t you think she is a little early for this?”