Over the weekend, my friend–let’s call him Jackson–sent me a text message to ask me what I was doing. I had turned down a dinner date earlier in the afternoon and wasn’t doing much of anything. Since I’m not into to texting an entire conversation, I picked up the telephone.
Jackson couldn’t understand why I didn’t go out when I didn’t have my daughter. I explained that I was relaxing, enjoying my time watching a television show that didn’t star Dora or Doc McStuffins.
He mentioned possibly hanging out with a woman who was his perfect marriage match, but who would never be his future fiancée. The deal breaker? She was a mom.
No matter how sexy, how smart or how fun, she would never receive a ring–at least not from Jackson. I respected his opinion. Heck, I held the same one when I was in my twenties, single with only one mouth to feed–my own! But I didn’t respect his approach. I told him he should not date a woman with kids if he would never marry her.
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