Thursday afternoon we were in the car and Evan asked me about when I got married and if Josh and I lived together first.
My son Jeremy was in the car, too.
Evan’s had limited exposure to how healthy relationships are supposed to work, so I told the truth.
The whole truth.
And nothing but the truth so help me God.
Yes. Uncle Josh moved in with me two days after we met. We lived together for two years, then we got married and then after a year we had a baby.
I said, “Think about it this way. Would you buy a car without even looking at the inside or taking it for a spin? What if it’s a junker? You’ll be stuck with an expensive junker that needs repairs you can’t afford or do yourself your whole life. Live together first. Also, don’t get married until you’re at least thirty.”
So that is me, in all my motherly glory, freely distributing sage as F advice.