I keep my eyes fixed on the road while my girls watch videos on the iPad in the backseat. The three of us are headed north to New Hampshire to visit their new cousin.

If left to her own devices the older one would silently play Minecraft the entire trip.  For this trips she’s been asked to share with her sister.  After some squabbling, they agree to watch videos on YouTube.

“Do the whip … do they nay-nay.”  I sigh and they sing along.  The two of them dance behind me.  “Play it again!” insists the younger one leaning forward in her car seat.

A new song. The pair of them stare at the screen silently until the older one groans. “Ugh, kissing!”  ‘What’s wrong with kissing’ I ask.

“It’s all wet and slow … and gross.”  She twists her face up like she’s eaten something bitter.

She doesn’t understand. She probably doesn’t even remember the last time her parents kissed or showed any affection to one another. All she knows is the kind of kissing reserved for family members at bedtime. When her hormones kick in (in a few years) she’ll change her mind, but her attitude makes me sad, makes me feel like I have failed to teach her an important life lesson.

Ever the didactic, I try to explain to her why people kiss. She has questions: “Who did I kiss first?” “How old was I?” “Have I ever kissed like that? (she points at the screen)”

“Why?”  Why would I kiss … like that? Because … its not something you think about, it’s something you feel – a connection with another person, an intimacy expressed through touch, a passion …

I trail off. They’re probably too young for this kind of discussion.  In a few years perhaps.  The car is silent for while.  I keep expecting her to ask me about my relationship with her mother, but it doesn’t come up.

With comic timing her little sister announces she thinks kissing is “nice.”

It is nice. It’s more than nice actually. A kiss can change your whole life.  I’m living proof of that – for better or worse.

…

Hey, can you girls play that “whip nay-nay” song again?