This guy I’m dating called my kids a “pain in the ass” last night because they were jacking up his game. He was trying to be all sexy-like, chef-ing up his signature spaghetti and clams to the mellow strains of Coltrane, sipping red wine, and delivering beers and sliced cheese to me on the couch like some kind of fine dining maître d' who makes house calls.
As the mouth-watering aroma of garlic sautéing in olive oil punctuated by the occasional hiss of noodle water disintegrating on a hot burner mingled and meandered our way, he attempted to cozy up to me on the couch. That’s when his balls fielded a 4-year-old foot, my hair was pulled from behind by a 1-year-old crib fugitive and my private maître d’—who had been kissing my neck before being so savagely interrupted—gasped to my ear lobe that my kids are a huge pain in the ass. I giggled.
I should probably tell you that the guy I’m dating is the father of aforementioned ballbuster and fugitive and moonlights as my ex-husband.
I’m dating my ex-husband. I’m not really sure why, other than I’m not really sure why not. He’s smart, sexy, really digs my (his) kids, cooks better than any guy I know, loves feeding me his creations and has a way with words. Basically, I got to realizing that I’m this single woman who’s been looking to spend time with someone (but not just anyone) and there’s this smokin’ hot single dad who lives twenty minutes down the road and has a thing for chicks with a crazy streak a mile wide.
Turns out, that guy happens to dig me. Matter of fact, he’s way into me. I’m not really sure why. I’m a bigger pain in the ass than my kids, frankly. But he seems to get off on it. So what the hell—we went on a date a couple weeks ago. It was strange and amazing. We had a fantastic time talking about TV and movies and books and people and life and social media shenanigans and dating after divorce; how it always felt like something was missing but we kept at it because it seemed like the thing to do when you’re desperately trying to recover from a haunted heart. At the end of the date, we feverishly made out in my driveway so we made plans to hang out again. And again. And again.
We spend a lot of time talking and getting to know each other. He asks question after question, and seems genuinely interested in who I am. He wants to know how I feel, what I think, where I’ve been, where I want to go. It’s exciting and scary and yeah, weird, but whatever, you know?
I’ve kissed a couple frogs this past year after separating and divorcing, but I ultimately came to realize that after our breakup he’s become the man I was looking for all along.
I kinda dig this writer dude who cooks and intimately knows what it’s like to wrangle three children who drive you crazy/you love madly and he really likes me and perhaps most importantly, my kids really seem to like him.
Besides, he knows my last relationship ruined me for marriage. I’m not looking to get married ever again and he seems cool with it. His last relationship was a doozy as well.
