September 05, 2005
I rather thought that The Boy's super human powers were limited to driving distressed, clumsy young girls with disconnected shoulders to crappy hospitals full of employed persons unaccustomed to pointy needles, cooking absolutely fabulous food with, more often than not, a Mexican theme and providing me with an altogether ultimate experience in morning, noon and night bedtime 'wrestling (hate me for being candid and fully pleased, if you will, but it's simply the truth).'No, no -- not only is The Boy full of superior nursing, culinary and O-Time wonders, he has also begun to display a firm interest in my scholastic ventures.
He has made sure that I am off to school on time, that my mountain bike tires are aptly filled with more than 1 pound per square inch of air and that I might have the necessary amount of unencumbered study time where he is not present. And, if he is present, he has been more than willing to listen as I read aloud the 2500 year old, complicated meanderings of such writers as Plato and Aristotle.
And, at that last point, it is rather reassuring to have two blank faces in the room as opposed to me merely subjected my head to more frustrated table bashing as I would surely have done if I were alone.
He was there to assist me in purchasing my books by holding me back when I wanted to strangle the pimply faced college girl who insisted I only reserved one book online as opposed to three. He was there to share in my disappointment when I searched the entire gymnasium over and still could not locate the supposed pool that Carroll College contains. He was even there when I needed money to copy some pages out of a book on reserve for my Advanced Writing class that the professor was too naive to make available in the bookstore because she thought it would be cheaper to copy 650 pages at 10 cents a pop rather than make that and the last 58 pages available for 50 bucks (perhaps, she would have done well to have taken a short MATH class while she was pursuing her Master's in English).
The point is, The Boy has not missed a single beat of that which tambours fervently in my heart and my soul. He has accepted every facet of my life as a beautiful and wondrous thing and has only stepped in when there is an occasion in which he can help me to grow, to heal or to glom down enough quesadillas to fill the entire apartment building twice over. He is a glory by his simple means of providing, attending, accommodating, healing and caring.
He does not mind that I must find my center through prose and completely evade all outside influence during such moments. He does mind that I smoke like a chimney, drink like a fish or eat like an all out, malnourished, crazed animal of gargantuan proportions and he even conceals his disdain for my essential bouts of Country music.
Every part of him has been an absolute compliment to me.
I can only hope that I will someday be able to fully return the favor.
And that he will continue to make the most fabulous Salsa known to man...