This afternoon, 4:43 pm. Walking home from the park, we pause at a grassy area so the girls can pick dandelions and clovers. Hazel approaches, holding a bouquet.
"Mama, we are getting married." Hugs my leg.
"Who is getting married?"
"I am getting married. Mama, I am getting married because I am a girl."
Wanders off to pick more flowers.
Isn't that why we all get married?