We were sitting in the front yard on one of the few glorious, sunny, perfect temperature days us Michiganders were fortunate enough to experience in July. We were both lying on our stomachs with our heads inside our pop up tunnel (the one that usually serves as a full body snake suit now that they'e bigger) for maximum privacy. Then this happened:
Whitney believed the children are our future and I do too. Sometimes, (often,) I wonder if we wouldn't be better off turning it all over to them now. Before they get hateful and cynical and make decisions with their wallets and prejudices rather than their hearts.
I cheer every time another state is added to the small but growing list of places where equality is achieved and look forward to the day our own state makes the leap. I cheer and then a shed a tear or two watching the celebrations that result. I have a feeling that with the kids in charge, I'd be cheering a lot more and in quick succession. And that our diets would be awesomely indulgent.
I don't know about you but living in a world where a discussion about a future hypothetical trip for ice cream warrants a bigger conversation than the marriage of strangers sounds pretty darn appealing. (Don't worry vegans, I have it on good authority that there will be sorbet served in utopia as well :)