“Feel better?” my husband asked.
My boy nodded his head and continued to chew.
“Maybe next time you need to fart like that, don’t do it at the dinner table. Good job, though.”
My husband resumed his dinner with the corner of his mouth turned up while I shook the water glasses on the table with my hysterics. The event reminded me of another delicious difference between my husband and me. Where I am grossly inappropriate, he is gentlemanly and reserved in the most uncouth of moments. When we started dating, I wondered why he was interested in a girl like me. He seemed much better suited for a genteel, southern girl with lady-like qualities. I was not that girl.
I was a major tomboy, thanks in large part to my brother, who is only a year younger than I am. Sure, we fought, but it was nice to have someone my age to play with. As a result, I did more boy type play things than girl things. I was not interested in Barbies and did not like wearing dresses. I’d rather someone give me play clothes and let me catch frogs by the creek. I knew how to play with boys, talk to them, shoot, even spit like them, but when it came to dating, I needed a little finesse. It took some serious trial and error (and then more trial and error) to get it right. So, for all the tomboys out there approaching their coming of age, here’s a little advice about what NOT to do.
When he farts for the first time in front of you, don’t laugh. He’s probably embarrassed. If he does laugh go ahead and giggle.
If you begin to play-wrestle, don’t take it seriously. He’ll feel like a girl if you actually dominate him. If you do lose control and end up the victor, don’t sit on his face and taunt him.
Don’t beat him in sports. Just don’t.
When you’re the new girl at school, and a nice young man walks you to the soda machine to ask you to the homecoming dance, do not point out that his fly is down after you accept. He has friends that are more than happy to tell him this. Common sense, ladies.
If he has difficulty hot-wiring the moped you plan on commandeering, do not roll your eyes, push him aside, and get it started quicker than you ever have before. Don’t smile smugly afterward, gloat as you get on, and expect him to hop on the back. On second thought, don’t even try to hot-wire a moped to begin with. What’s a moped?
Don’t take his face in your hands, move your lips close to his, gaze into his eyes and say, “You’ve got an eye booger.”
If things are going well and you’re full on making out, do not extract yourself from the situation, and exclaim, “I’ve really got to pick this wedgie.” (Honestly, no self-respecting young lady should ever be in this type of position. I certainly wasn’t. Cough.)
Hopefully you can learn from a few things from these completely fictional and made up events. The road from awkward tomboy to dating aficionado is a long and bumpy one, but with practice and a great set of….mopeds, you will get there.
The tomboy in me is still alive and well, (I still keep my sling shot in my underwear drawer) just curbed to a healthy level. To clarify, I do not think you should change who you are for a guy. Not at all. If a man wants you to change for him, then he is no man at all. When you do meet the love of your life, he’ll be far from perfect, no man is (except Jesus), but he will love you for you. This does not give you freedom to boast of your burping expertise, ladies.
Lastly, do not be frightened of makeup, purple pens, skirts, and other girly things. Who knows? You might learn to like them. I can say this from experience as I now have an unnatural love of stilettos. Marry tall, ladies. Marry tall.
Harley May enjoys jogging and eating Nutella. Often at the same time.