On Eating Paper and Wrting Letters

We left off yesterday discussing the art of flirtation as it relates to eating paper. The Boy was treated to a late birthday extravaganza last night by Big Sister and SIL (son-in-law). This included dinner, sports, a movie and a spend-the-night. As he hopped in her car, she asked if he had read my blog for the day. "Nope, not today. What is it about?" ....""Eating paper to impress the girls!" she replied. I had to remind him of the reference, and he burst out "Mom!! Why did you write that?" But the goofy smile was intact. So today, I feel compelled to say that The Boy's technique has grown and matured...instead of eating paper now, he is more likely to subtley let someone know how many games he won pitching, or how many home runs he hit. Maybe not as visual...but surely as effective...

When I was 10, I began a 2 year- long crush on a boy named John Cannon. He had blond hair, cut in a bowl cut...and he was what was referred to as a "hood". Looking back, I'm not positive about what this meant, except that it had to do with the fact that he wore a jean jacket everyday, and if offered a cigarette, he probably accepted. Now I never spoke a word to him...ever...so I do not believe there was any flirtation involved, unless you count staring at him on the school bus.

My first encounter with The Husband was typical Husband. He walked up to me at work one day...we had never formally met....and he asked if I wanted to attend a work function with him that evening . He was carrying a tux over his arm...and one of his co-workers had just scuttled upstairs giggling in an evening dress. "Don't you already have date?" I asked. "Yeah, but she doesn't really want to go." .....Well, it didn't look like that to me. So I politely declined, explaining that it was too late to find a sitter. The Husband's eyebrows rose at this comment, because this was a little tidbit of information he had not known, but he recovered enough to ask if we could attend another "work function" the next night. I accepted this offer....and the rest is history...albeit an interesting history...but the subject for a whole 'nother blog. The point is, The Husband is being honest when he says he does not flirt...it is just not in his genetic makeup. He orders, he commands, he yells...but he doesn't flirt.

Big Sister smiles and blushes, so any attempt to flirt would have been counter-productive. She is sincere and sensitive...not really a game-player, unless you count stalking...and that is the story for another blog, too.

Little One has written lovely flirtatious letters over the past few years, but I have had to intercept them, because lines like "You are just adorable" or "I could kiss you" seem good on paper, but they might come back to haunt her...

The Rebel (who I am working on another nickname for) is really the only flirt in the family. She can bat her eyes with the best of them...all the while shooting pool and singing karaoke. There was a whole episode with a Russian boy that backs up this assertion...but no time today to explain...

So until tomorrow, when memories of love and flirtation continue to make us smile...and I get closer to a few days at the beach....