I have two children

I have two children. One is one year old, the other a bit older. One can barely speak, the other cannot shut up. One can barely sit, the other is always moving. One wears diapers, the other tells me when it stinks. One is curious about what I am doing, the other goes by his day without a word. One wants to help me but it is in the way, the other looks away and is still in the way. One loves tummy-time, the other snores as soon as he hits the sheets. One loves to go outside, the other stays inside and watches TV.

One is my responsibility. It is up to me whether he grows up to be a gentleman or like the other child. One I have to feed and bathe. One who will be like his grandfather: patient, helpful, loving and caring. One will treat his woman as a real man should: talk to her, bring her flowers, take her out, cook her dinner, tell her how proud he is of her and how beautiful she is, love her more than anything on the planet, buy her gifts, make her feel safe, spoil her in any and every way he can.

One will defend her in every given situation. He will not be embarrassed to show the world that he belongs to her. He will shout: I AM HERS AND THIS WILL NOT CHANGE! He will do anything to make her trust him and he will not betray her trust. He will beg her not to be mad, he will be sorry when he is wrong, he will cry when he is sad and he will hold her when she is sad. He will dance with her to her favourite song in the rain, he will be there to help her when she is sick.

The other? Huh. He will never be like he used to be. He will never treat his woman as he did when she was not his yet. He will never be that perfect boy with a drop of jealousy, because spite took over him.

One is being raised by me, the other has been raised by another woman.

Why did I marry that child?

                                                                                                                  Fülöp Csenge   X. R