A Curious Arrangement

I can't remember exactly where or when I learned of the idea of arranged marriage. It may have been regular school or it may have been church Sunday School, but as a child, the idea of it fascinated me.

(I say it may have been Sunday school because although I attended a relatively tame Presbyterian Church, my teacher was constantly criticizing other religions. We should be thankful that as Christian's we had the choice to marry whomever we chose, not like those "submit any other non-Christian religions." This was the same teacher who kicked me out of class for not playing Bible Pictionary correctly. Twice. The first time for drawing an airline pilot for Pontius Pilate and the second for not evening knowing what the upper room was. Still not sure.)

Back to the arranged marriages. I don’t exactly know what it was that captivated me about the idea of this thing. It seemed like a way to get all the girl with none of the expensive dating. Back then, of course, dating meant handing over your Ecto-Cooler Hi-C or chocolate Teddy Grahams.

As a child I would make up histories of how my parents and the parent of the girls I like could have met and set up our wedding. And these stories always seemed to have some sort of medieval theme. They would not take place in medieval times, mind you, but have medieval themes. My father, the modern NoVa blacksmith would shoe horses for Janna Flower's dad the Atilliator of Rockville. Or my seamstress mother would make dresses for Rosie Anderson's mother, the wife of the Falls Church Gong Farmer. You know, normal school boy make believe.

I mentioned this to the Governess and she thought it was the weirdest thing she had ever heard. She's right.