Sweet Nothings

Me, putting my makeup on while the Cyclist stands beside me looking through his phone for a picture:  "MY GOD!  Have you seen these dark circles under my eyes?!!"

Without looking up or missing a beat, the Cyclist replies "They are beautiful.  I look forward to seeing them every morning."

Good answer, aye?  This is just one of the joys of dating when you are older.  I guess I can say we are dating.  Whatever it is, we've been doing it for five very happy and hardly ever dramatic years.

Once, after we had both been diligently working on trying to get a piece of Saran wrap unstuck for 15 or 20 minutes, I said "I miss seeing more than just about anything, don't you?"  and he looked me straight in the eye and replied "Huh?" because another one  of those joys is that the men usually can't hear about half of what you say.  This can be a wonderful thing, considering that half of the things I say either don't really matter in the first place or are statements that could lead to deep conversations which men don't really enjoy to begin with.  Also, you can get them to agree to things that if they had heard you right to begin with, they would probably never have agreed to in the first place.  This only works as long as they are still pretending they can hear, though. 

Sadly, the Cyclist and I have now passed that point.  We now negotiate like professionals. 

For example:  The Cyclist asks what we are going to eat.  I give him two options (no more than two or it will take forever) like spaghetti or tenderloins.  If one of the choices involve getting out of the house and going to the store, the other choice is the obvious winner, since neither one of us likes getting out of the house, let alone going to the store. 

Should he pick the choice that involves going to the store, I will resist that choice.  He will offer to drive me to the store, picking me up and waiting at the curb, but will refuse to get out of the car to go into the store.  I will finally agree to go into the store.  This has become our habit.  Why he would agree to get out of the house long enough to get into the car and back out again, but refuse to go into the store is beyond my understanding.  I would never agree to that because it makes no sense to me.  To me, it would be easier to just do it myself.  This has become our routine and I just accept it.  I enjoy the curb service, and I have the strangest feeling that I may have agreed to something I "thought" he said.......

Girl Talk

Conversation between two adult women, both disgusted, one peri-menopausal (me):

Me:  Do you think any adult woman looks at any man as anything other than a child?

Other woman, after significant pause:  "Mormon's"

Hysterical laughter from both of us.

Make of that whatever you will, just don't take it too seriously.  It was just "girl talk" and I would be bereft without it.

I'm baa-aack

With warmer temperatures (sometimes), we have moved outside and been working on the yard.  Specifically raking and burning leaves and whatever the dogs have reduced to small foreign objects.  Mostly limbs out of trees.  The other night the wind was blowing pretty hard and blew a pretty big limb out of a Pin Oak. The dogs ran over joyously, treating that limb like the gift from God it probably was, and reduced it into about 9 smaller twigs within 40 minutes.  Really.  For this reason I have also been playing a lot of Pick Up Sticks.  I have reduced my love handles to the point of being able to get my pants buttoned again.    YES!  Not that I really mind being bigger, but I can't afford new jeans AND gas, so I had to make a decision.  I decided, as is my habit on High Energy Days, to HIT IT!  After a couple of days spent picking up sticks in my yard, my body now feels like Arnold Schwarzenegger's looked like in the 80's (note the emphasis on the feels  and the absence of the word "looks"). 

THIS IS WONDERFUL!! 

It was starting to really get to me, and just when we can no longer wear sweaters.  I hate it when that happens. 

I have stopped making my way steadily through bags of candy, at least temporarily.  One thing that I should mention, and this is a safety warning:  Do not buy Crystal Light hard candy.  Thinking this would save on calories, I bought a bag of them.  These candies have 1/2 of what looks like meant to be a hole like a Life Saver, but the hole only goes half way. 
Listen to me when I say that this CAN cause the candy, when you suck on it, to adhere to the roof of your mouth in a manner that feels pretty danged permanent, necessitating you to use your finger to try to break the suction, directly after which the candy will zing to the back of your throat, choking you in an embarrassing manner, should you be unfortunate enough to be in a public place.  Maybe even if you are alone in the privacy of your own home.   I was at work, and I hate to admit it, but this happened to me several times.  It seemed such a waste not to eat it when I already had them right there.  So, for what it's worth, beware the Crystal Light hard candy.

In other news, I have had to have a conversation with my youngest baby that included the phrase "No, dear, you cannot start dating when you are 13 years old."  I am baffled as to why in the world I would have to say that.  If you were thinking the world has gone crazy, I can only say that I think you would be correct.  I also would like to note the big sigh of relief from my oldest baby after I uttered this phrase, followed by the words "Why can't all parents be as strict as you?"

Yes.

I swear it is the truth.  The odds of a child expressing appreciation for the strictness of a parent, at 13 no less, are infinitely small.  I am going to have to remember it for a very long time and so have now documented that it does happen. 

Who says God doesn't answer prayers????

My only reply was "I have no earthly idea, honey, but all I have in this world that means anything to me is you kids, and you are not going down the wrong path on my watch", said with a smile and a pat on his leg as we drove down the road.  It was nothing but the honest truth, and I have the feeling we will be coming back to that conversation again, perhaps several times.  I won't go into what else I said but it involved anatomically correct words and my two babies begging me to stop. 

It went as well as can be expected. 

Any parent worth their salt is relentless.  Believe it, know it, live it.