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Topic:  Tell the story you have been dying to tell.

  

I’m at a loss.  I’m racking my brain and writing lots of words on paper while waiting for the computer to restart after it chose this moment to install updates.  And even that time doesn’t give me a story I’m dying to tell.  Something comes to mind, and I guess I’ll write about that.  I was divorced when my children were very young.  Leah, now almost 28, was 4 and Josh, now within day of his 25^th birthday was one.  We spent a lot of time as the single mother family and we were getting along well.  I wasn’t opposed to remarriage, but my forays into the dating world left me with less than desirable memories that had no future, to speak of.  So, when someone would ask me why I wasn’t dating or what I was looking for, I would state that I wanted someone who was rich and had a hairy chest.  Now you young puppies will be appalled at the hair thing, but remember, I’m older.  That was the thing back in my day.  I said this frequently, and I’m sure my kids heard it often.  So, one evening, the kids were in the living room watching some TV and I was doing something in the kitchen.  I heard lots of giggling—they were about 9 and 6 years old, I guess.  So, I went to check and see what was going on.  They were standing with Leah in front and Josh slightly behind her.  I began to quiz them.  They then proceed to tell me that they had found the man for me.  I was amazed.  I didn’t really want anyone, but they evidently felt the need to have that male presence in the household as well as those visits with their father, so I replied, okay, who?  Well, it was like a guessing game.  They started to giggle and I said, “Ok, guys, tell me, who.”  Leah then passes the buck to Josh.  Mom, he says, “We know he’s rich, cause he’s on TV.”  Wow, did my mind leap.  Of course their giggles and this pronouncement meant I was safe from commitment, but I thought of Tom Sellick or some other hunk that came over the airwaves.  So I prodded further, “Who? come on guys, tell me.”  So then, Josh drops the second fact—he must have a hairy chest because he’s hairy all over.  My mind just froze—who is hairy all over, was it not only going to be a hairy chest they had in mind, but the hairy back also?  Ewwww?  Then, Josh decided to put me out of my misery.  He shouted out, “It’s ALF!”

 

Imagine my relief, as I explained that I was very sorry but I could not pursue this relationship.  If Alf were to come into our house, he would eat the cat, and then where would we be? 

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