Foibles and Follies of Being 53 and Single

It seems like some of us have some real challenges and grief in our lives through no fault of our own.  And I just thought perhaps some of my stories here, recounting some of my dating episodes, might bring us all some humor and relief, if only for a short time.  It's all true.

Three years ago I found myself single, which I never expected to be, ever in my life.  And since then have been dating, which wasn't easy when I was 20 and at 53 still isn't easy.  Although, I have a greater sense of who I am now and of what I can and cannot tolerate, what my strengths and weaknesses are, so in that sense it is easier. 

I have been dating a wonderful man for a year now.  He's divorced too and all of our children are in college or, in the case of my daughter, have graduated.  He farts and I snort when I laugh.  We're good together.  My daughter says we are the two nerdest people she has ever met.  But we enjoy each other's company, so what does it matter if he collects clocks and I have a periodic table on my refrigerator?

But the issues of meeting each others children is a rather tricky one.  His 3 girls are protective of their Dad and my son thinks the idea of his Mother dating is just strange.  We try to make good impressions and hopefully win the hearts of each other's families.

Take, for instance, last Sunday.  It was his birthday, and after conferring with his daughters, not wishing to intrude on any family traditions, we decided to have brunch at my house.  Cooking is not my forte, but I was determined to make an impression.  It started off fine.  Almost everything was ready right at 10:00 a.m. and all the guests had arrived.  But when my date came through the door he was walking doubled over, which looked awkward to me.  He explained he'd thrown his back out the day before power washing his deck, and was in a lot of pain, but being the trooper he is, showed up anyway.

I began serving drinks, orange juice, pomegranite juice, iced tea, or water, and quickly realized the orange juice had gone sour.  No problem, we had lots of choices.  I took the egg casserole out of the oven at 10:04 but it was not yet done and I put it back in for 15 minutes.  This was a little glitch because we were on a rather tight schedule.  So I served the fruit salad with the yogurt, the cinnamon rolls and the croissants.  Are you supposed to take the center out of the pineapple? It was hard as a rock and not ripe.  Neither was the honeydew melon.  There was no sweet green flesh, as had been promised by the grocer.  But no one exclaimed or complained.  I was hoping they didn't notice.   

But then they began to pass the rolls, which looked excellent.  The cinnamon rolls were so easy to make.  They came in a refrigerated package.  All I had to do was crack them open, put them on the cookie sheet and bake!  I iced them and served them on a pretty glass dish with a paper doily.  And then the guest to my left, boyfriend of one of the daughters, picked up a cinnamon roll and stuck to the bottom was the metal disk from the top of the icing that came with the package of dough.  I had baked it into the roll!  He peeled it off and although gave me a quizzical glance seemed unfazed.

I escaped by running into the kitchen to check on the eggs.  They were still runny as soup, so I turned up the temperature to 325 degrees and set the timer for 15 more minutes.  To distract everyone from no eggs, and figuring a sugar high might lighten the mood, I brought out my coup de grace: chocolate covered strawberries served on another glass platter on a white paper doily!  I had made them the night before and the instructions on the chocolate package said not to refrigerate.  So I didn't.  But I should have.  Because the strawberries had mold growing on them which I didn't notice when I served them in my embarrassed reverie.  But the boyfriend noticed and wondered out loud what the white fuzzy stuff was. 

Rising up off the floor, I went back into the kitchen to check on the eggs.  They were still soupy but I decided to serve them anyway and pretend the raw eggs were a sauce.  I think I carried it off.

In stunned silence I served dessert and coffee.  The girls had brought apple crisp (the perfect brunch food because of the apples and oatmeal) and cheesecake with strawberries on top.  These were delicious and perfectly done.  And it was finally time to open presents.  I think he liked mine: a pottery bowl I had made and one my instructor made, a book of Bob Dylan's lyrics, a deck of cards and a rule book.  The rule book for games turned out to be the hit of the party.  The boyfriend is a champion cribbage player and led us all in a few games!

After everyone had gone, I was satisfied.  I think I had accomplished my goal.  I had really made an impression.