On the surface, Boo looks like a mature sixty-eight-year-old man; confident, charming and witty. His shiny head with grey fringe whispers over-the-hill in a subtle way. But, underneath the suave exterior is a twelve-year-old boy running the show and calling the shots.
Boo is sweet and sincere, then obnoxiously loud and sarcastic. “Did you see that guy’s shirt? The bright green one with Padre Island on it?” he says loudly at the grocery store where almost everyone can hear. “I have one just like it, but you won’t let me wear it out in public.”
And just like a twelve-year-old boy may be developing peach fuzz on his upper lip, Boo’s moods and patience are developing on many different levels and not always in a smooth way. I can never predict whether Boo will feel sorry for someone or call them ‘a complete fool.’
Have you seen the Instagram post where the husband is standing over the casket of his deceased wife, sobbing into a handkerchief?
“But honey, what’s the Wi-Fi password?”
That will be Boo.
In spite of my efforts to educate him on the whereabouts of important papers, Wi-Fi password, ‘end of life’ notebook, and even the extra flea and tick control medicine for the cat, he still says he can’t find them. Can’t or won’t? He can’t even find the new bottle of ketchup sitting front and center in the pantry. Again, can’t or won’t? That’s the million-dollar question.
Boo’s sophistication is at times subzero. He occasionally surprises me when we are attending a party at someone’s house. He’ll insist on purchasing a really nice bottle of wine or a fancy, scented candle for a hostess gift and then tell a wildly inappropriate fart joke as soon as we get there.
As a grandparent, Boo is top of the line. He loves our grandkids unconditionally and proves it by his outrageous and grandiose expressions of affection. He will build a ninja warrior course in the backyard, plan and execute elaborate fishing trips, play dress-up complete with Beauty and the Beast costumes, and bake their favorite chocolate chip cookies in mass quantity. If it can be done, he will do it. His ability to have fun is his super-power as a grandpa.
Boo doesn’t care about what he wears, whether it matches or even if it has holes or stains. “That’s why I married you. No one’s really looking at me.”
Was that a compliment?
One of Boo’s little known twelve-year-old talents is something I was unaware of while we were dating. Not until we were married did he display this skill. One weekend we were walking Town Lake. Mid-point in our trail he stepped over to the bushes, and without using a tissue, blew his nose and kept walking.
“What are you doing?” I howled, looking around to see who saw this happen.
While still walking and blowing he answered, “It’s a snot rocket. Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“I assure you I will never try it,” I said.
“Well, that’s a shame. It’s really very satisfying if you’ve been stopped up.”
Not all of his twelve-year-old antics are as ‘out there’ as a snot rocket, but subtle or not, they are real.
As character defects go, mine mainly revolve around being too serious, worrying over little things, and trying to control the universe. While Boo prefers to roll his eyes when I say something he doesn’t like or laugh when someone falls down.
Of course, Boo is way past puberty, but he still runs the gamut from childish to mature, confident to insecure, rebellious, and impulsive to someone I can always count on. In fact, that is one of Boo’s most wonderful qualities, he is a man of his word. He always does what he says he will do, and generally with a good attitude. And while Boo still has his ‘pull my finger’ jokes and toddler table manners, he’s a definite diamond in the rough. My husband is twelve, but it’s really working out for us.
Sittin' Ugly Sistahs 