Mind Prairie

So I was all ready to set aside my qualms about marriage when I stumbled on this delightful picture in the New York Times. Filed under “Pictures of the Day” — one of my favorite NYTimes features, by the way — the caption reads: “Jasper (left) and Levi, were ill at ease after their ‘I will’ at the children’s wedding day in Science Museum NEMO in Amsterdam. On this special day, children can marry for one day. The marriages are dissolved after sunset.”

What a concept! Marriages dissolved after sunset like the carriage turning back into a pumpkin and the glass slipper reverting to a saggy moccasin, or whatever happened in Cinderella. First, a question: what inspired the Dutch to dress up their kids for one-day commitment ceremonies? Jasper appears to be at a loss for what comes next. Levi’s countenance, however, conveys the struggle of a woman trying to resign herself to a marriage made in her late 30s amidst a thinned dating pool. You can almost hear her thinking: “Well, Jasper is no Prince Charming, but at least he is employed, still claims a full head of hair and lacks a criminal record.” Or am I projecting?

Second, a proposition: imagine being able to marry anyone for 24 consequence-free hours. At more mature ages, what separates this act from the casual, one-time hook-up?

Almost everyone tells a story about getting married in kindergarten. Usually initiated by some girl and totally ignored by some oblivious boy, pre-school “marriages” are a ubiquitous childhood experience. All of them resemble the picture above. Most carry-on for a few days, just long enough to lodge in memory firmly enough to be recalled in college when people reminisce about childhood.

Tomorrow I am writing about middle school dances. We’ll party like it’s 1999.