Breaking Dad

Two Saturdays ago, I was scrolling through my Facebook feed after the girls had gone to bed. I had, some time ago, become Facebook friends with Miss Easel, the twins' fifth grade teacher, now that the girls were out of her class, and I noticed a cluster of pictures in which she'd been tagged.

Well, awwww. Miss Easel and her boyfriend, Mr. Clocktower, had gotten engaged, apparently right smack in the middle of one of the local Christmas parades. Since this was a just-happened-this-minute posting, it must have been the parade in Cburg, just south of where we live. (In an interesting turn of whimsy, Mr. Clocktower's parents are in our Sunday school class. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.)

I mentioned the engagement to Hubby when he got home. He'd seen the news on Facebook himself.

The fact that we were both aware of this news is important.

The next morning, as we drove to church, Hubby asked if I'd told the girls yet. To be honest, no. I hadn't. Sunday mornings are often hectic as we try to get out of the house at something of a frenetic pace, and then we stop for donuts, which we'd done by the time Hubby posed his inquiry.

Hubby flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror. "Girls, Miss Easel got engaged last night."

Middle asked, "To Mr. Clocktower?"

"Yes."

I peered over my shoulder at the backseat.

"They're getting married?" This came from Youngest.

Hubby chuckled. "That's what engagement means."

"How long were you engaged?"

"Sixteen months," I said, at the same time as Hubby said, "Too long." (We were both right.)

"It might've been different," I pointed out, "if we'd lived in the same zip code." We'd spent most of our 16-month engagement a good twelve hours and 600 miles apart.

Middle piped up again. "How long have Special Edition and Mr. Nurse been engaged?"

This sparked something of a debate between Hubby and myself, as I said almost three years and he said almost two. (I'm right, for the record.) We explained to the girls that Special Edition and Mr. Nurse are choosing to continue to be engaged because that's what suits them at this time. Middle and Youngest kind of thought it was ridiculous to be engaged so long and still not be married.

About then, Oldest mused, "When I get engaged, I only want to be engaged for 7 months. Or maybe 9 months. I don't want to be stuck with my man for that long like Special Edition."

I sat and quietly snickered over the thought that marriage leaves you stuck with your man a lot longer when Hubby elbowed me. I shifted to look at him as unobtrusively as possible. He appeared both shell-shocked and shattered, and his eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets.

Poor man.

I felt for him. Really, I did.

But a couple nights earlier, I had been sitting downstairs in the basement, sorting old clothes with the girls, stuff that needs to be sold or donated and gotten out of the house. Makaha hadn't liked the fact that it had been stored in plastic bags, and so he'd peed on some of it. As we'd sorted into piles that were stuff to be washed and the rest by sizes, the girls had freely talked about what they would name their future children. (So far, I will have at least five grandsons named Kemper, all by one daughter, identified numerically.) That was a mildly harrowing experience.

From the back seat now: "What?"

Hubby sat in silence.

"I just don't want a long engagement. I don't think that's a good idea," Oldest went on.

I'm pretty sure Hubby paled. My baby is talking about engagement. She's only 13. I could see it written all over his face. No, not yet! NOT YET!

"You weren't there the other night for their discussion on what they want to name their children," I told him.

"No, no. I don't need to know!"

I chuckled.

We got to the church and parked, and Hubby still hadn't quite returned to normal.

"Is Dad okay?" Middle asked.

"No, he's not okay," I told her.

"I broke Dad!" Oldest crowed from where she'd skipped ahead. "I broke Dad!"


To bring the story full circle for you, I saw Mr. Clocktower's parents in Sunday school, and his mother gushed over how delighted they all were (they love Miss Easel), and she happily showed me the video of the proposal. Everyone there, including Miss Easel's parents and a number of their friends, knew Mr. Clocktower was going to propose...except Miss Easel, who was delightfully surprised. And also delightfully amused when I told her all about the morning's episode of Breaking Dad.