That was Porter’s question to every guy I introduced him to. Porter would extend his arm, grip the guy in a handshake and then ask, “Did you date my mom?” I have to admit that it took me by surprise the first time he asked, but it really shouldn’t have considering Porter’s interest in all things “love.” He’s already proposed marriage, to two girls at once. In kindergarten he got down on bended knee in the lunch room and asked Evie and Maria if they would marry him then held both their hands while waiting in line to go to recess. Though I don’t know if he’s made any other such proposals since then, I do know there have been numerous professions of love. Porter wears his heart on his sleeve, actually more like on his forehead in blazing neon.
So back to his interest in me, “Did you date my mom?” “No, we didn’t date.” “No, we were just friends,” and on
and on it went throughout the afternoon at the family picnic. Then we walked up to Forrest, and instead of surprising me I was about to surprise Porter. First of all, I have to say that I didn’t recognize Forrest. I saw him when I first arrived, across the lawn, and wondered, “Who is that big, burly guy?” but didn’t have a chance to follow up as Parker was off and running for playground equipment. Over an hour later when talking to one of Forrest’s good high school friends I asked, “Where’s Forrest? I haven’t seen him yet.” To which I was told that he was the guy with the beard. So I actually had already seen him not knowing it was him. I immediately headed over with Porter. I couldn’t believe it! Forrest looked like a mountain man. We started talking, I met his beautiful oldest daughter,
and I introduced him to Porter who had been staring intently since we had walked up. Porter shook Forrest’s hand and continued to stare.
Then it hit me and I said, “Porter, Forrest and I went on a date. He took me to a dance.”
If I remember right it was homecoming of our senior year. Porter looked from me back to Forrest in stunned silence. He began to rub his chin, and then finally asked, “Did you have a beard in high school?” No. Forrest’s daughter was enjoying the conversation and contributed a story about how Forrest, when going through airport security, immediately gets sent over for the additional screening procedures. One of the last things Forrest said before I walked away was that he was going to shave for the dinner later that evening. And he did.
I just had a great time catching up with old friends. Some I’ve known since elementary school, others I met in junior high. There were those I didn’t get to know until my senior year in high school, and a few I got to know better at my ten year high school reunion. There was even someone I didn’t know I went to school with that I met over the weekend. I’m sure it’s not hard to figure out that I was at my high school reunion, the 20 year to be exact. A lot of disbelief surrounds the event. The most obvious being that we cannot seriously be 20 years older already. But here we find ourselves, 20 years later, a group of people once bound together by our birthdates, addresses and high school continuing to connect with one another in old and new ways. I saw many former classmates I was hoping to see, but there were many more I would have also loved to catch up with. What a fantastic group of people we shared our childhood with. What varied and fascinating lives we have led over the past 20 years. What amazing perspectives we have to offer one another. How easily we picked up where we left off to enjoy our friendships once again. So does that really mean that the more things change the more they stay the same?
Parker has become a little more independent recently. Though still fairly tiny and nowhere near resembling an almost four-year-old, he is now able to open doors. Shortly after mastering this skill, he accomplished another one, climbing into his crib from the outside, even when the rail was all the way up. We knew that climbing or falling OUT of the crib was soon to follow, so we decided to take the side rail completely off.
Tonight we tried to put him in the big bed, or I should say the bigger bed since even his crib looks big with him laying in it. He laid down, we shut the door. A bit later we went to check on him, he was back in his crib, and sleeping like the “baby” he is. Clint wants to take the crib down. I’m not sure I’m ready for that so I’ll use the size excuse for as long as I can.
So Clint and Porter had a conversation while riding in the truck the other day which I would consider his first “sex” talk.
“In the great green room