More recently, my regular personal essay writing gig over at Your Tango's LoveMom section more or less requires that I examine the marital relationship in the larger context of "the intersection of life, love and kids." My piece over there today pivots on the difference (if there is one) between being happy and married, and being “happily married” (whatever that means!). It begins this way:
A decade ago, when one of my sons was still a preschooler, a friendly old gent in the grocery checkout line tried to make small talk with the boy, who was attired in a New York Yankees jacket.You can read the rest here.
"Oh, are you a real slugger?"
From the kid, silence.
"Are you a big strong boy?"
Finally, winking, "Are you married?"
The boy spoke. “No, I’m happy.”