I hadn’t expressed this sadness to Will but I think he may be thinking ahead about how he and Owen’s relationship will change as they grow older.
On the drive back from the library yesterday, Will told me he wanted to marry Owen one day. I told him brothers don’t usually get married, and he seemed a bit worried.
“Will Owen and I get to see each other much when we’re grown up?” he asked.
I told him they might see each other a lot if they lived in the same state, but if they lived far away, like Uncle Graham and I, they might just see each other once or twice a year.
“I want to live right next door to Owen,” Will said. “Or maybe we can live in the same house.”
I guess Will and Owen’s relationship is already like a stormy marriage. They play together most of the day, much of the time happily, but they also have their share of domestic disputes. Lately, at least a couple times a day, Owen will come up to me and say “I no like my brother.” And at least a couple times a day, he will say, “Mama, I like my brother. He nice.” In general, though, when Owen’s not giving me an official report, I’d say liking each other wins. And I’m savoring this relative domestic bliss while it lasts.