Living Happily Ever After

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Purse

I love handbags. So does my daughter. In fact, yesterday she spent a gift card she got for Christmas from #5 and bought herself a new purse! Metallic silver, ruffled, super stylish–if she doesn’t watch out, her mom may be tempted to borrow it. It’s as cute as any purse I’ve ever seen, including silk ones.

Which reminds me: you’ve heard the expression regarding making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear?

I like to think of it as making the best from what you’ve got to work with. Choosing to create something to enhance your experience out of something not so desirable. Like what we each must do in an unexpected life.

Although, “One disadvantage of being a hog is that at any moment some blundering fool may try to make a silk purse out of your wife’s ear.” (J.B. Morton)

Passion for purses aside, I’m thinking I should be thankful #5 is fit, trim and very unlike a hog…and that I’m not quite his wife yet, huh?

Some time in 2011.

Stay tuned.

Shrek II

With each new day, September got closer. He’d passed the ultimate slow dance test, but before I uttered THE words, I reassured myself regarding my decision by asking Bachelor #5 every question I could think of, every possible scenario I could brainstorm, and he patiently addressed them all.

I couldn’t believe it, but I continued to uncover layers of Bachelor #5.

One day, he mentioned in passing something about a master’s degree. I’d known him at least 6 months and it was the first time, apparently, THAT had come up! I stopped and asked, “Hold on, did you just say you have a MBA?” He said, “Yes, why?” I replied, “I can’t believe you’ve never told me that before. I’ve known you this long and it’s the first time you mentioned it!” He said, “Well, I told you I taught some college classes several years ago…” Yes, but I hadn’t stopped to think about what that implied. Another layer discovered.

He took my children and I to a park in the canyon near my home to play tag. Guess who couldn’t be caught? My teenage son looked at me and said, “Mom, I don’t think he’s that old! He’s really fit–and fast! I wouldn’t worry about his age any more.” Another layer gone.

Then there was the time he got on a trampoline and taught my four-year-old how to do flips. I was thinking he was pretty spry for a grandpa of 48 years old–and then when he was alone on the trampoline and thought no one was watching, he started jumping really high. Right about the time I noticed him jumping high, and started to worry he was going to hurt himself, he did a Russian! (Any former cheerleaders out there who know what that is?) The twenty-something former cheerleader I was talking to looked at me and raised her eyebrows. She really liked Bachelor #5 and probably wanted to ask, “And you think he is ‘old,’ why?” Another layer gone.

I realized, “Age is something that doesn’t matter, unless you are a cheese” (Billie Burke)