Period. No exceptions.
I can’t say I’m familiar with that old saying, “Love your neighbor. Except Jim Bob who owns three guns, worshipers at the local mosque, and Kim’s girlfriend.” But all too often this seems to be how the world runs.
‘Tis the season for love…
- except for those folks over there who look different than me.
- except for the blacks, the whites, the Mexicans, or the illegals.
- except for the Muslims, the Jews, the Hindus, the atheists, the Christians, or the heathens.
- except for the Republicans, the Democrats, the political activists, the apolitical, or “those people who f*cked it up for everyone else.”
- except for the lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgenders, transsexuals, queers, intersex, or asexuals.
‘Tis the season for love.
We’re getting awfully close to a time when we’ll need our own Guide for dating Princess. Thankfully, Ah dad has gotten the ball rolling already.
“It’s like giving birth for fathers. A cold blade piercing your soul. And it’s not that she doesn’t look at you in the same way, it’s just that you have an icy reminder that one of these years you will have to give her away to another man…
Low and behold, the inevitable is happening. My contractions have begun. Princess has a crush. She claims friendship but I’ve never look at any of my friends the same way she looks at him. So just to be on the safe side, I felt it important to edit and publish my Guide for dating Princess. I trust he would be reading this…”
I thought it was a cute story about a mother/daughter bonding moment. A time when mom made it clear I came first…before plans, expenses, embarrassment, or expectations…all of that ran second to my well-being.
BrightSide didn’t seem quite as impressed by my story. Not at first, anyway.
But it’s a moment I’ll never forget.
“I am convinced that most people do not grow up…We marry and dare to have children and call that growing up. I think what we do is mostly grow old. We carry accumulation of years in our bodies, and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are innocent and shy as magnolias.”
– Maya Angelou
Yo. I am by no means an expert on marriage. I’ve only had the one, after all (though I do think we’re getting along fairly well), so I’m drawing on a rather small statistical sampling here. I suppose that means the following disclaimer is in order.
I am not an experienced counselor, except to my own children in matters of wardrobe and middle school drama. I don’t have all the answers, unless you’re asking how to heat soup or make a really good grilled cheese sandwich. My coping methods may not be appropriate to your lifestyle seeing as I’ve been known to recommend beer and nachos for therapeutic comfort. Sometimes even Double Stuff Oreos™ when the going gets tough, despite the fact that I have no earthly idea what sort of concoction binds together to make that delicious creamy filling.
Now on with the show!