Oedipus Redux

We’re sitting in Harvey’s, waiting for the boys to finish their fries so we can head over to Toys R Us (an exciting family night on the town!) Tristan, sitting beside me on the bench, is playing with an onion ring, which prompts a discussion about rings on fingers and my rings in particular.

“There’s one from Granny,” I say, showing him a white gold band with a ruby set into its face, a ring given to my mother before my parents were married by a rich aunt of my father. “And these two are from Daddy. See, it looks like one ring, but really there are two together on the same finger. So two rings, plus one ring is how many rings?” I ask, since Tristan is beginning to work on his math skills this year.

“Is that your wedding ring?” Tristan asks, ignoring the math question and already knowing the answer because they’ve long been fascinated by my rings.

When I say yes, it is, I can see the wheels turning in Tristan’s head. “So Dad,” he says, his eyes serious, “did you kiss Mommy when you got married?”

Beloved and I both laugh, and confirm that yes, we have in fact kissed. Tristan, by far the less kissey of my two boys, surprises me by turning to me and planting a fat kiss right on my mouth.

“There!” he says. “Now I’m married to Mommy, too!”

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