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“What other advice do you have for me?”
“Don’t get anymore tattoos” I stated.
“Seriously? Have you seen the kids these days?” she asked.
“Most of them have nasty looking tattoos done by a friend who could barely finger paint. Even if you somehow end up with a good one, as you get older or put on a bit of weight it will deform and look like Hell. Yours have actual meaning. The names of your children and their birth dates. The Marine corp tattoo which I now know is a spousal marker. Those are fine and you mostly keep them hidden I suspect.”
Melony nodded confirmation.
“Anything more than that is going to turn off someone old enough to have the kind of income to support a wife and four kids in a nice place” I stated.
“I only have three kids, we’ve been through that already” Melony corrected.
“Yeah, well . . .”
“You think that is going to be part of the deal?” she queried.
“Most likely, unless he already has a few somewhere else or is no longer capable. Sorry to be so blunt, but, until they become teenagers about to go to college, that will most likely be a requirement for the bulk of the candidates” I confessed.
“Why is it different when they are in high school getting ready for college?” she questioned.
“Because that’s just money. Given enough scholarships, student loans and checks, they will soon be gone, only returning during breaks or after graduation when they can’t find a job. He will get the newlyweds in a childless house continuous sex experience. Okay, not as much as he would if he was twenty, but still, it won’t be all of the trials and tribulations of raising them through all of the fussy years.”
“I guess that makes sense” she responded. “If you” she stopped herself “that’s a generic you, not you in particular. If a generic you is going to accept the package deal when diapers are involved, you are going to one of your own to be part of the diaper changing routine, but in high school they are teenagers who don’t want you around until they need money, a car then college tuition and more money.”
She closed her eyes and looked like she might fall asleep as I slowly stroked her back. “He would have to be a guy that liked or at least wasn’t offended by guns though” she uttered almost sleepily.
“Yet another leap in our conversation” I pointed out.
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