“Men!,” LouLou flounced her skirt, with a pout on her lips. “Mama, tell me again why I need a husband?”
“To protect you; provide for you; father your blessings, your children; offer wise counsel. My dear, why everything your father does. I would not have you, my pet, without your father.” LouLou’s mother looked up from her embroidery. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, Merrilee said she would not marry. She would find her own way in the world.”
“You shouldn’t listen so much to her. I do not think she is of the best influence upon you,” Mother said, shaking her head.
“And, Mr. Grimsby does flatter too much, and Mr. Bysgrim, not enough!,” LouLou whined.
“Your father will find you a suitable match. Those men are mere boys! To marry someone your own age? Nonsense and poppycock.”
“What if I take a lover instead.” LouLou knew her mother would be livid.
“Do not say such a thing. Do not use such a word,” LouLou’s mother was quivering with indignation, a flush rising from her bosom to her cheek.
“But men take lovers all the time. I hear Father and his friends discussing such after supper,” LouLou said, flouncing her skirt the other way. She practiced her pout in the mirror. Mr. Grimsby liked her pout; Mr. Bysgrim did not.
“Child!,” LouLou’s mother went from flushed to deep red, missing a stitch in her embroidery. “After supper we retire to one room, the men to another. You should not be listening to your Father and his friends. I believe your actions are more scandalous than ever. Keep such things out of your marriage.”
“Men,” huffed LouLou, thinking about the Misters Grimsby and Bysgrim. A sly smile split her face. A lover and a husband. Two for one. Now, which would be which?
Written for MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie, Writing Prompt #111: Men