If you're happy and you know it...

Soooooooooooo, had a conversation with my mother today. I went to R's last night and we watched a movie, did the snuggle thing on the couch and she, of course, in hushed whispers and girlie tones asks if I had a "nice" time this morning.

But that was this morning...last night, it went down like this.

Before I left mom comes into my room and says, "You mind that fresh mouth of yours, young lady and give R a kiss for me."

I'm like huh? Kiss him for you? Helllloo, what are we, the Italian Mafia welcoming him to the brass knuckle wearing bretheren? She's met him ONCE and he's what--in like Flynn? No background check? No fingerprint matches? no CSI investigation? Crimeny. So I say, "Kiss him? How'd we get all familial here? You met him ONCE, ma."

She gives me the breathy whoosh of air sigh and says, "Anyone who can make you forget THAT mess (see reference to THAT. It means my ex. LMAO) and make you smile the way you do when no one is looking deserves a kiss from me. You never, not once smiled like this on any of your other dates. I haven't forgotten the shotgun, but I don't think I'll need it after the way I saw him look at you. That's not something you can fake. I know because that ex (fill in blank) never looked at anyone but himself like that and you can't tell me otherwise."

Again, she's making the sliced bread/honey and something about eating reference, to R.

Then, she tells me I'm "in something" I refuse to repeat on the grounds that Chinese water torture won't even get it out of me. LMAO

I say, yeah, yeah and go on about getting the hell out of my noisy house for quieter pastures. AKA-- R's house.

We have a really nice night doing nothing more than hanging out with each other. I will give R credit for always knowing just what to do to make me feel less like world peace is riding on my shoulders. He's good at listening to me whine and then making fun of me for doing it. LOL. Seriously, he soothes me because he understands the degree of stress I'm at on my Richter scale of fried. He knows when it's right to offer sympathy and solutions and when it's right just to shut up and let me moan. We do share a brain. I just happen to have the part of it that has better taste in music. LOL

Anyway, this morning mom says, "You know, princess, you were always a beautiful girl (OY, moms, eh? LOL), but as of late, you're simply breathtaking. You absolutely glow. Does R know just how lucky he is to have YOU on his arm?" Yeah, I'm sure he's thinking that every time my hair is in afro mode and my thighs are oozing over the seat of the chair. Lucky, lucky, lucky...

First, this morning I looked like CRAP. Shit on a shingle. My hair must have had a small, winged animal lodged in it and my eyes were puffy because the damn painter woke me up at the crack of daybreak to paint my hallway. I had cat hair all over my T-shirt and my shorts are now, hanging off of me because somewhere in all of this, I lost weight. Oh, and I had morning breath because I was on my way in to brush my teeth.I am neither glowing or breathtaking. The only time I'm close to anything resembling breathtaking is when I'm breathless. I DO smoke and my glow comes from my tan in a bottle--so there.

I make faces at her behind her back.

She turns around and narrows her eyes at me.

I back down first, cuz she can take me. LOLLOL

Now, oddly, just yesterday my youngest came in and sat with me after school. It's kinda ritual for us to hang out and chat about the days events. Then again, at dinner time, when I demand we shut off the TV and eat together. It's the only time anyone wants to spend with me anymore. X-box and hootchies in bathing suits two sizes too small call each of my boys like a siren's song. OY

So, he says, "Ya know mom, you look really pretty lately."

I've entered a new dimesnion, I just know it, cuz my kid thought I was uber gross not so long ago and he would make faces at men when we were driving in the car if they looked at me.

I laugh and say, "Well, thanks, good lookin." It is, after all, a complimenht of the highest order.

not to be deterred, he says, "No, I mean it and now I can see why so many men look at you and say you're beautiful (it was only like ONE, but who's counting. LOL). You really kinda are."

Oh. Hookay. I REALLY am. Please. So, I smile and say, "Thanks, sweetie." I mean, what else can ya say when your 11 year old says you're pretty? I'm a bit shell-shocked.

Now, he can't shut up. "You always look happy and stuff and I'm glad to see you happy. Do you think it's because of R?"

Now, here's where I want to jump up and yell, "Excuse me. I was happy before R and after my divorce. GOD, can I get a little credit for creating my own state of euphoria, please?" I can make my own joy, live alone in my own carefully devised Utopia without any help from R, thank you very fricken' much! But I don't...say anything, that is.

However, he again says, "I don't mean you weren't nice before you met R. You were. You're a pretty cool mom, but it's a different kind of nice now. A happy-nice."

Well, then...you just saved me opening up a can of whoop ass on ya. I don't bother to try and analyse this because I think he might be right.

I don't like it, but I'm woman enough to maybe, quite possibly, sorta attribute some of that to R.

I want to HURL for admitting it, but it's a whole diff kind of happy when shared with someone you really "like" (LIKE, LIKE, LIKE. I said, LIKE LOLLOL). It's the kind of happy that's a joint effort. it isn't me giving up everything to make him happy and it isn't him waiting around, tapping his toe while I do it. It's enhancing what already exists. Like breast implants in a double D cup, ya know? LMAO

Apparently, it makes me glow.

I wonder if it washes off after several showers and some Brillo?

LMAO

DC :)