Mari Alice and I were at my bathroom counter getting ready for our family night out. As I dried her hair, I reminded her of some manners concerning the adults we planned to join for dinner.
cdj: "Mr. & Mrs. King. That is what I want you to call them. Ok, Mari?"
4yo: "Mr. & Mrs.?? Why is there a Mrs.?"
cdj: "What do you mean?"
4yo: "Why is there a Mrs.?"
[At this point, I turned off the blow dryer in order to REALLY focus on this confusing conversation.]
cdj: "Mari, what are you talking about?"
4yo: "I thought it was two guys."
cdj: "Why would it be two guys?"
4yo: "Didn't you tell me Uncle James lived with the kings?"
cdj: "Yes. Mr. and Mrs. King."
4yo: "So, they're not real kings?"
[I'm not sure if Mari has imagined JW in a mansion with Elvis and MJ all this time, or if she assumed James and his roomies walked around wearing regal robes of velvet with glittery crowns. But in that moment, Friday's dinner plans became far less majestic, and slightly more mundane to the princess with the not-so-royal uncle.]
