“Um, excuse me, Mrs. Jones. Can I marry Hudson?” The question caught me off guard and melted me into a puddle. This precious, beautiful little girl wants to marry my son. My son, who is not like any of the other boys in their class. My son, who’s never been able to have a verbal conversation with her. My son, who has Down syndrome, and despite being the oldest one in the class, is the smallest. But Hannah loves him. She always greeted Hudson and I with the warmest smile when we walked in class.