the trinity

We live here in what R calls the feminine trinity. I dig that he attaches some sort of divinity to the female presence/dominance in our home. He is learning to cope with the estrogen.

The little curly girl is obsessed with death in the way that little ones are (that is the matter-of-fact-shit-happens kind of way) and has decided that her impending marriage to her boyfriend, J, will take place in a cemetary "because they are really beautiful and lovely".

After being in bed for awhile and unable to get to sleep, the elder marched into the bathroom claimed some space beside R who was shaving, dropped her robe and stood in all of her glorious puberty in front of the mirror applying body lotion. He carried on and she chatted away happily. She would never do that in front of her father. He would pass out if she did. R kept cool. (I was there too-having a pee).

He has learned how to play in feminine ways, is learning to communicate in ways that females respond well to (a very important life lesson I'll say), doesn't mind being dressed by females, knows how to compliment and when to keep quiet, and stays low when the drama overloads. I think he fells privileged to have this inside track into the lives of girls and women-perhaps a secret wish of many boys and men-and is a fascinated onlooker. A proud papa of girls!