Truth is, this supposed indiscretion is nothing more than folklore... (albeit enchanting)
... and let's face it, the tale is burdened with the drama that we earthlings so love to devour...
But what if Arthur and Lancelot were just the two greatest loves her heart could
Love that swelled and confused and tore her in two.
What if there was no forbidden consummation but rather abject consternation?
I wonder what will happen when another person falls in love with my son...
... knowing what it feels like to look at a man with desire and hope and
a whole bunch of butterflies painting the ceiling of your stomach... awful really.
I look at my boys and I shake my head.
I smile and I shake my head.
How could this sneak up on me?
This mammoth love?
How can two men hold the heart of one woman at the same time?
How did we go from "resembling the father" to "wrestling with father"?
How did we move from little to large .... whilst still maintaining killer dimples?
The last time I reminded him to "ask my permission before he grew another inch"
Do you know what he had the nerve to say to me?
"Love you Mum"