Here is what happened over the weekend:

Mr. Tall, Smart, and Wickedly Witty was early on Friday. He arrived “with bells on.”

We were still fawning over my daughter’s BFF who was at our house getting ready for her prom.  We were the paparazzi launching her special night. MTSWW sat on the sofa, waiting patiently, observing the hubbub.  Mrs. Sadie Snufflemuffin took a shine to him. (That’s a thing, right? When your dog—or cat—likes a fella?)

The prom launch party left and we set out walking to the commercial district nearby.  A light rain was falling and I shared my frilly umbrella.  The rain picked up and by the time we arrived we were rather damp. Still, we enjoyed drinks, some of the best Indian food in the area, and some precious face time.

Conversationally, we covered a lot of ground in a short time, with a good measure of laughter and some seriousness. MTSWW is from the Southwest and made no secret of his interest in returning there. It was all on the table.

I felt guilty for having abandoned my kids and really just wanted to go home. He was amiable—he actually seems to like them.  We looked in on Sissy and Zeep and then sat on the porch swing, talking quietly. Our lives have been more different than alike, but we have common values and are interested in understanding one another. Our divergent experiences affect our unique perceptions.

Sorry. No proper nouns.

Little Man returned from an outing with a buddy. We went indoors to join the kids for a five-game Bananagrams marathon. Sissy trounced me for the first time ever, winning all five games. There was a lot of laughter and some great smack-talking. I may have been distracted.

Afterward, we said a sweet goodnight.

Saturday was a full day, mostly good, but not without challenges. We ended up changing plans in the evening to accommodate Zeep’s struggles.  Sissy went to church for an event and the boys and I decided to cook out with our much-loved neighbors.

“Hey, why don’t we invite [MTSWW]?” Zeep suggested.

Little Man concurred. MTSWW accepted the invitation and came by. There was sangria and laughter and everyone had a good time.  It was late when he left. The boys had been chased to bed. Sissy had come home and visited with the adults and then went to bed herself.  The neighbors had gone home. I walked him to his car and we spoke privately, honestly.

We are increasingly close. We are friends for real.  We are friends first, foremost, last, and—I hope—always. That feels incredible, right.

Also, I saw him briefly on Sunday. I have a penchant for pin-ups from the 1940′s and ’50′s. He brought me this:

She’s a redhead, a 1948 Varga calendar litho.

The verse reads:



The weather may be frigid

   And your fuel supply depleted,

But since you hung me on the wall

   The place is overheated.




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