Jake’s been thinking about marriage lately—his own. A couple of weeks ago he seemed pensive when I picked him up from school. “What’s wrong, dude?” I asked.
“Dakota broke up with me,” he sighed. “She still likes me, but she doesn’t love me anymore.”
Em was pragmatic (a very different attitude than her approach to her own “love life”). “Well, it’s not like you were going to marry her.”
Jake protested. “I might. I’ve got to start looking now, you know, start preparing.”
Then, over the weekend, Jake reminded us of his children’s names (we’ve had some of this conversation before). “My first boy is going to be named ‘Tucker,’” he said. “Tucker Thomas—the Thomas is for you and me, Dad.”
“What?” Dave asked. “Doesn’t your wife get a say?”
Jake’s face crinkled up like we were missing something obvious. “Not with the boys’ names, Dad. She gets to name the girls.”
“What if you only have boys?” I asked.
He had to think about that one. “Then I guess she gets to name the second boy.”
He didn’t seem too happy about it.