My cousin (whom everyone calls by his initials, “HL”) announced last week that he is going to marry Marilyn Monroe. He’s 4.
HL’s fascination with the tragic actress started when my grandmother took out an old magazine with Marilyn Monroe on the cover. When HL saw it, he immediately wanted to know who the woman on the cover was.
“It’s Marilyn Monroe,” said my grandmother. “She was an actress.”
“Why is her face so beautiful?” HL dreamily asked. He stared at it for a while, contemplating her beauty, then proudly proclaimed, “I’m going to marry her.”
“You can’t marry her,” my grandmother said matter-of-factly. “She took too many drugs and she died. Plus she was already married three times.”
The undisguised bluntness of this information didn’t phase HL at all.
“But she never married me,” he said, implying with his tone that had they met at the right time, no one else would have ever held her heart but him.
A couple of days later, Marilyn Monroe was still on his mind. He told his mother again, “I’m going to marry Marilyn Monroe. I’m going to marry her after she comes back to life and is resurrected. And I’m going to tell her not to eat drugs, because they’re bad for you.”
Oh HL. I love you for your determination. And for your taste. She was a beautiful woman. And if she ever comes back to life again, I’m sure you two will hit it off.
Here are some pictures of HL from last week when we went to visit a local goat farm and saw the inner workings of this amazing place. We got to watch four baby goats being born (slightly traumatic), bottle fed baby goats that were just days old, and tromped through some serious mud.