As I sit here with my teeny little gal, gazing at her teeny little nose, hearing her teeny little sounds, and beaming at her teeny little smiles, I am reminded that this place where she is right now is ohso temporary and therefore extremely precious. I love her smallness more and more each day, but I was reminded by my mom who was here this weekend that in a mere thirty years, this teeny little gal could very well be a mother herself. How’s that for mindblowing?
The amount of parenting and life decisions B and I are going to have to make in order for Miss C to get to a happy, well-adjusted adult place absolutely blows my mind, although I recognize that we’ll be making those decisions in strides and we don’t have to commit to a college this very day. Today’s hurdle consists just of introducing the “miracle swaddlers” to her. I have a feeling she’s going to dislike them because they restrict the movement of her arms, but since we were gifted so many, I just want to try them out. So that’s today. A nap (or five) would be nice, too. Not to mention getting all the thank-you notes completed.
In the meantime, there are many things I want to tell her. I suppose that’s what this blog is really for: showering Miss C with the redonkulousness of my own life and attempting to demonstrate that everything always seems to turn out alright. This is a lesson for myself too, especially now when I have to recalibrate my life nearly every day, depending on what’s on her agenda and how much sleep I got the night before.
When my lessons are actually age-appropriate for her, she will probably have no interest in hearing them, but I’ll still insist that she sit and listen to my ramblings and learn about the time before I knew her dad. On How I Met Your Mother, Ted’s kids are always entranced by his stories, told to them inexplicably in Bob Sagat’s voice, but I’m not going to bank on my girl being so rapt by my own stories as she ages. So now as she slumbers, I will tell her my tales of the world.
Today I will talk about bad dates. Let’s just break the ice with something innocuous. She’ll eventually be out in the world; crazy – considering I wouldn’t even dream of taking her to Target right now – and some lunatic in disguise will invite her on an outing which she will assent to because she won’t know better. Here’s my story for her when this happens.
When I was 20, I once briefly dated a guy who worked at a health food grocery store. He was a few years older than me, and I was still at the age when dating a guy who was older than me had inherent value. This was back when I worked at the Gap. He found out I worked there and came up there one day to hang out with me on my dinner break and to ask me out. I said yes and the date was set for the following weekend.
The first date went pretty well. We went downtown and saw a really loud band in the basement of some bar. That’s all I really remember of the whole encounter so at that point everything was kosher. There were a few meet-ups at the library in the meantime before the next big date.
The second date was agreed upon. We would be going downtown for dinner and then a movie. I drove to his apartment because it would have been really out of his way to pick me up at my home which was in the opposite direction. This was his idea. Sorry, but I was raised a certain way and that way entails him picking ME up, no matter how far away I lived. But at the time I didn’t know anything so I didn’t question it.
I got to his place and he drove us downtown in his Cadillac SUV. I know, kind of incongruous with his whole health food store persona. He explained that his dad owned/ managed (I can’t remember which) a dealership so he got to lease the Caddy. But he emphasized his own pauperism adamantly, saying that he was barely scraping by on his own financially. I think I was supposed to be impressed by this fact.
I think I was also supposed to be impressed by his enthusiasm over emo music, which was just then becoming popular.
So he goes on and on and on about how poor he was and I thought it was odd that he was so fixated on this but not really important. When we finally got downtown, he mentioned that he needed to make a pit stop at Hot Topic before we went to dinner. Maybe it’s because I’m really tired right now while writing this, but I don’t even have the energy or the creativity to highlight the sheer ridiculousness of this store. This is your invitation to leave jokes in the comments section to which “Hot Topic” is the punchline.
In Hot Topic, after his explanation of how strapped for cash he was, he purchases not one but two Jimmy Eat World t-shirts for himself; one was white with black writing and one was black with white writing. Yeah. You can’t make this stuff up, Miss C.
We arrive at reasonably-priced Italian restaurant. This guy has the audacity to remind me once again how broke he was and actually put a PRICE LIMIT on what I was allowed to order off the menu. You had better be sure at that point that after the t-shirt episode I ordered whatever the heck I wanted, caution to the wind.
This did not go unnoticed. By the time we left the restaurant, his feathers had been ruffled and he said that the option of seeing a movie in the theater was out due to his limited funds. I think he expected me to offer to pay, but sorry, that’s not how I roll since he was the asker-outer. We’d have to rent something instead and watch it at home.
Which we did. A video was procured and we returned to his apartment to view it. This is the part of the story that starts to make my skin crawl, so hang on.
I situated myself on the floor to watch whatever movie we rented, mostly because he had situated himself on the sofa. But within 20 minutes of the movie starting, he was of course on the floor with me trying to be romantic or whatever. You know what happened next; he OF COURSE tried to make a pass at me and shove his tongue down my throat.
And I OF COURSE resisted. And what did he say?
“What, did I buy you dinner for nothing?”
Well, apparently you did, buddy.
And I was like Seacrest, out. That was the end of the date. I hightailed it out of there.
Hopefully if anything like this ever happens to Miss C, she will too.