My husband is a sweet eccentric. From reading my blog, you would certainly see the eccentric side – because it’s so much fun to write about.
But he’s also quirky enough that some folks have asked me why in the world I was drawn to him in the first place. (as opposed to running for the hills.)
Because I married late in life, I suppose people might assume that I married this guy because I was desperate – and ready to ‘settle’.
SO not true!
But my ‘advanced years’ did play a part in my decision. If you have twenty-five years of dating under your belt (which is not a suggestive wisecrack, but I can see why you might think so), you’ve been exposed (not suggestive either!) to all types of men.
You can pretty much determine all the traits you DON’T want in a man.
Your list of “No Thank-Yous’ only grows.
You don’t relax your standards – you get pickier.
So here’s a short list of the frogs I have kissed while searching for my prince.
But first, a couple of disclaimers:
1. I have changed the names. Not to protect these losers. It’s just that making them sort of fictitious is somehow less embarrassing for me.
2. My life was not a string of horrible relationships. Not at all. It was a horrible relationship - then a long long dry spell – then a horrible relationship – then the dry spell – then the next horrible relationship. Not a string. More like hiccups that have to be scared out of you.
3. I did actually date some nice normal men. They kept that tiny flicker of hope alive.
Okay, let’s start the frog parade.
Larry, my first boyfriend: He said he knew my house. The one with the broken step. I started my list: No Snobs.
Moe: Wielding scissors, his mother chased me out of the house. I added to the list: No Crazy Relatives.
Curly: He wrote me the most hilarious series of letters. I was enthralled. And then in literature class the next semester, I found out that Curly didn’t exactly write those letters. He merely typed them. Kurt Vonnegut wrote them. Added to list: No Plagiarists.
Shemp: Shemp told me that his mother was a twin, but he figured that twins must stop looking like each other as they age, since his mother looked nothing like her twin sister. I explained to him about fraternal versus identical twins. He said, “Wow, how do you know this?” My list grew: No one who slept through the entirety of high school.
Navin: The night before our big vacation he went to the dog track and lost every dollar of our vacation money. We were left with our plane tickets and my credit card. I added: No Gamblers.
Bluto: How I waited for the phone to ring. And it did. Saturday evenings at six, Bluto would finally call and say, “Why don’t you come over?” And I’d get in the car and drive 27.6 miles to spend the evening with Bluto. Every time. Several months later, I finally worked up the courage (after driving 27.6 miles of course) to say, “Some time you might want to come over to my place. Aren’t you curious to see where I live?” Bluto just stared. I wrote in my list: No Self-Absorbed Bastards.
Linus: He planned a romantic evening, but forgot to open the damper when he lit the fire. The smoke detectors went nuts. So did Linus. He could have laughed it off. He took a different route. He locked himself in his bedroom and had a nice little cry. I added: No Humorless Wusses.
And last but not least:
Bart: I met him at a business convention. We worked for the same corporation in different states. It was true love – for three days. I returned to my job filled with dreams of family life. I secretly began paperwork to transfer to his state. Three months later I attended another corporate function. Bart wasn’t able to attend, since he was at the hospital where his wife was giving birth to their third child. I wrote one hundred times: NO CHEATING PRICKS.
Yes, my husband is eccentric. He likes Gene Autry better than The Beatles. He shreds the bedsheets with his toenails. And he wants to start a horseradish farm.
He meets all my other criteria.
And he leaves me extraordinary designs in the peanut butter.