Since all the crumb snatchers have reached the age where they don’t mind cooties from the opposite sex, we’ve met quite a few of their flames. Lucky for us the fires burn out quickly. We’ve liked most of their steadies except for “That One.” That’s how we refer to her because it’s too hard to say “The Spoiled Little Rich Girl Brat That Your Mama Hates.”
The Eldest introduced me to her his senior year. He’d had a crush on her since seventh grade. We met at a restaurant and the moment she told my son what to order, I knew we were going to mix like Southern Baptists and a corner liquor store. Then my son gazed admiringly at her and I thought, “Oh no, one day she’s going to pick out my nursing home!”
When she ordered she had a host of special requirements. “No mayo puhlease, iceberg lettuce only puhlease, half ice only puhlease, and can you cook that to 162.5 degrees puhlease?” I ordered a bag of chips—sealed puhlease—so I could make sure my food wasn’t spit on.
When lunch was over and she’d left the parking lot on her broom, I drove The Eldest home. The inevitable question arose. “So what did you think?” I feigned hearing loss and said, “I had Diet Pepsi son.”
“Huh? No, what did you think about her?” The Eldest pushed. I tried diversion and said, “The waitress was very good.” With a huff, he said, “Stop playing Mom. What did you think about That One?” Only he used her real name.
Now, everybody in the south knows what it means when you say “she’s nice.” Unfortunately, I forgot that my son was from the south too. With a disappointed look he asked, “What’s wrong with her?” I tried reverse psychology. “Nothing is wrong with her. I could just eat her up with strawberries and whipped cream.” I also forgot The Eldest knew I didn’t like strawberries and whipped cream.
Later that night I told Chief Money Maker, “I can’t stand her and I know he’s going to marry her!” Level-headed Chief tried to calm me down. “I think you’re overreacting, honey.” Well, that’s certainly not the way to calm me down.
I yelled, “You weren’t there! You didn’t see the way he looked at her. I swear she’s already picking out her china. And he knows I don’t like her, so he’s going to marry her just to spite me!” Chief raised his eyebrows and said, “You told him you didn’t like her?”
“Of course not, you dufus. I told him I could just eat her up with strawberries and whipped cream!”
“But you don’t like…ohhhhhhh.” It takes a little while for his faucet to run hot, if you know what I mean.
It turns out that Chief was right. They eventually broke up and like a good mother I was there to console him with a hug and bowl of fresh strawberries and whipped cream. I might not like them, but I knew he did.
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© 2012 CThacker