My son Duke is lucky. He has no clue what it's like to grow up with divorced parents. I have divorced parents who have remarried and so does my husband. Duke has been told that Grandpa (my stepfather) is not my father, but since my father also died when I was young, it clouds things even more for he and his younger brother and sister.
Tonight Duke came home from soccer practice. His coach is Italian (and I don't mean Brooklyn-Italian). Duke is impressed with his coach and happens to think his Italian Grandpa is pretty great too.
Luc was showing me a pullback in the living room (groan... I was really trying to weigh the urge to enforce the "no balls in the living room rule" and his excitement at a fun practice tonight.) He asked, "Mommy, am I part Italian?"
"Huh?"
"You know, 'cause Grandpa's Italian. So does that make all of us part Italian?"
"Well, no. He's not...." I hesitated. I watched my sons face start to fall and become serious. I pictured myself taking away Santa and said, "...you like Grandpa huh?"
"Yeah." And he smiled brightly.
"Umm... yeah, he's your Grandpa, so you're a little bit Italian."
"But why did you say no at first?"
"Because he was born here, in the US, and I was being overly technical. But his parents are straight from Italy--so he's Italian, and that makes you a little bit Italian too."
He smiled wide again and said, "Cool!"
We'll save the discussion for divorce some other day.

Subscribe to this RSS feed

0 comments:
Post a Comment