""
"I can't believe you still watch this show." Mark said, taking a seat on the floor. "Only babies watch Barney, Maureen." the girl turned and glared at him.
"Shut up, four eyes." she said, hitting him where it hurt. Mark had only just gotten glasses a week earlier, and was very sensitive to the teasing he got from wearing them.
"You're just mad 'cause you know I'm right. Baby." he jabbed.
"Am not!" she countered.
"Are too!" Mark said, sticking out his tongue. "You're mad 'cause you're a baby and I'm not."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
"Put a muzzle on it, will you!" Mark's older sister, Cindy said from the couch where she was talking with one of her friends from the junior high. "Sorry. I got stuck watching my baby brother and the little neighbor girl until Mom gets home from grocery shopping."
"I'm not a baby, Cindy!" Mark insisted. "I'm six now. Maureen's the baby. She's only five still."
"Whatever." Cindy said before going back to her phone conversation.
"Wanna do something fun, Marky?" Maureen asked.
"If we don't have to watch this dumb show."
"Me an' Roger's auntie got married this weekend."
"Yeah, so?" Mark asked.
"It was fun. There was a cake, and dancing and lots of people."
"I thought we were gonna do something fun. I've been to a wedding. You have to sit in church for a million years. They aren't that fun. What do you want to do?"
"Let's get married!" she exclaimed excitedly.
"Get married? Ew." Mark said. "You have cooties."
"Fine then. When Roger comes over after his nap, you can marry him and I'll be the Rabbit."
"Don't you know anything, Maureen?" Mark said with a snobby tone. "It isn't a Rabbit, it's a Rabbi. And besides, only girls can marry boys."
"Nuh uh." Maureen said.
"Yeah huh." Mark argued.
"Shut up!" Cindy yelled.
"Roger's nice. I'd marry him." Maureen said matter-of-factly.
"You can't marry him. He's your cousin." Mark said.
"So?" Maureen asked haughtily.
"So, cousins can't marry cousins. It's against the law."
"Says who?"
"Says God."
"Well fine. I didn't want to marry him anyway. Boys have cooties."
"No we don't!"
"Yes you do!"
"BE QUIET!" The room went quiet except for the cheesy cheers from the children on television as Barney told them all what fun they were going to have that day. The door creaked open and a little boy stuck his head in.
"Hi guys." he said. "Hi Cindy, can Mark come out and play?"
"If you take it outside." she said, desperate to get rid of them.
"Okay." Roger shrugged. Mark got up and followed him into the backyard and Maureen rushed to join them, running as they tried to leave her behind.
"Guys! Wait for me!"
"Roger," Mark asked. "Can boys marry boys? Maureen thinks they can, but I say they can't. You're seven, so you're almost a grown-up. Who's right?"
"I think they can." Roger said wisely. "Besides, girls are icky. I'd rather marry a boy."
"See? I told you so." Maureen said, sticking out her tongue at Mark. "Now can we have a wedding?" she said eagerly, grabbing both of the boys by the hand and dragging them to the swing set.
"If Mark and me get married then can we go throw rocks at cars after?" Roger asked.
"Whatever. It can be your honeymoon." Maureen said, clearly uninterested in the games that boys played. "Didn't you get a timeout last time you did that?" she added.
"Yeah. And my dad hit me with his belt. It hurt when he was hittin' me, but you should see the cool bruises on my butt!" he said enthusiastically.
"Gross." Maureen said, wrinkling up her nose.
"Can we get this over with, Maureen?" Mark asked, kicking at the grass with his scuffed up shoe.
"Fine. Mark you can be the bright and Roger can be the groomed." she said, grabbing them and moving them to face each other by the swings. "I'll get flowers." she announced, running over to Mrs. Cohen's garden and plucking some gladiolas to hand to Mark.
"What about the ring?" Mark asked.
"Oh yeah!" she remembered. "I'll be right back!" and with that, she rushed back into the house and came back out with two small, foil packages, handing one to each of them. "My mommy bought these for me to share with you, Mark. They're called Ring Pops. But you can't eat them 'til after the wedding, kay?" she instructed. Roger looked with longing at the candy ring in his hand, but obeyed, knowing that his cousin's wrath was much worse than waiting five minutes to eat the candy. He'd seen her at Christmas when she didn't get the microphone and play stage she wanted.
When everything was just the way Maureen wanted it, including collecting stuffed animals, dolls and a disgruntled Cindy, to watch, she stood in front of the "audience" and began.
"Friends, dolls and stuffed aminals of Scarsdale, we are here to watch these boys get married. Roger, do you take Mark to be your awfully wetted bright?"
"Yeah, whatever." Roger said, yearning for the taste of the blue raspberry sucker in his hand.
"No! you have to say 'I do'." Maureen insisted.
"Fine. I do." Roger obliged.
"And Mark, do you take Roger to be your awfully wetted groomed?"
"I do." Mark mumbled.
"Then by the powers vested in me. I now announce you bright and groomed." she said proudly. "Roger, you can kiss your bright!"
"EWW!" both boys said at once.
"But you have to! It's part of getting married!"
"No! That's gross!" Roger insisted.
"Do it or you can't eat your Ring Pops!" she warned. Roger glanced down at the sucker in his hand. Was kissing another boy worth it? He decided, yes, it was.
"Fine." he said. And with that he leaned over and kissed Mark on the lips.
"I remember that too well for my own good." Mark said, snuggling closer to Roger on the couch.
"I can't say you're alone on that one." Roger replied with a grin. The two leaned in and kissed softly, Mark's hand trailing up Roger's arm to his cheek where it stopped.
"If that wasn't a sign of things to come--" Mark laughed when they pulled away from each other.
"I love you." Roger said.
"More than candy?" Mark asked, raising an eyebrow.
"More than anything."
"Now I know you mean it."
"Oh shut up. You always knew I loved you."
"I guess so." Mark smiled, pressing his lips to Roger's once again.
"Hey Mark?" Roger asked.
"Yeah?"
"Do we have any Ring Pops?"