Excessive Exes

So I get that when you date a guy fifteen years older than you, they're going to have racked up the exes. And I get that people are often friends with their exes--say, when they've been married and had kids and live down the block from each other. And I was going to complain about how Guy is one of those people who is always friends with his exes, but that's really not true--he starts out that way, maybe, but really there only two that still turn up: the aforementioned Mother of the Children, who had better stick around, or I'm going to be one frizzy-haired, frazzled, and probably against-my-will-bedazzled stepmother.

The other is the College Girlfriend. She came for a visit this past weekend. The first time we met was in passing, when she was going out to lunch with my brand-new boyfriend--a lunch to which I was not invited. Hmm. And then I met her in passing again--another lunch to which I was not invited, because she was "fragile." College Girlfriend was not becoming my favorite person in the world. (To be fair, I was invited to a dinner, but developed a migraine and so did not attend.)















Those of you who have been to my house will have noted the many excellent black & white photographs of a woman--the College Girlfriend. We do not have this particular image up in our living room because I think it's scary and not exactly conducive to a relaxing evening in front of the TV, but it is representative of her work and so I display it here.

In summary, I was expecting a dark, depressing, and somewhat unfriendly presence for brunch.

That is not at all the sort of person who arrived. Take the lady in the hellraising circle there and replace it with Boy and Girl's Favorite Playmate Ever! The Favorite Playmate Ever! was the sort of person who makes her sleeve eat a waffle and spit it across the table (according to Guy this is not an act put on for the childrens' benefit--it's just something her sleeve likes to do). The Favorite Playmate Ever! displays an almost genuine interest in clubpenguin.com, can do accents,* and best of all can howl.

And I don't mean just any howl. This is a howl that sent me fleeing from the room in an uh-excuse-me-I-gotta-go-clean-out-my-closet-so-I-can-hide-in-there panic. Fire engines would get to fires faster if they had her sitting on top of them.

The phrases heard most often were: "Hey, FPE!, you're crazy!" "She's cuckoo!" "Come tickle us, please please please come tickle us!"

I think I exchanged two words with her.




*Guy does appear to have a type. All the exes I have met plus me like to do accents. The Favorite Playmate Ever! is probably the best at it, and I fall far, far behind, having been taught by my father, whose Pakistani accent sounds exactly like his Irish accent.