I wasn’t always the brazen, out-spoken, tough and spunky gal you know and love. We can all thank Stuart for nurturing those character traits in me. Some of you may wish he hadn’t.
In the early stages of our relationship, Stuart had the uncanny capability of reducing me to a puddle of tears. At times he filled my being with the urge to flee a room or take shelter under the nearest table. He’s just that talented. Funny though, I’ve been told that he didn’t speak in high school. His crudeness can be attributed to the good ole Houston Fire Department. The institution that is responsible for the metamorphose of more than one mustached manchild.
I’ve since learned that his humor is a defense mechanism.
One Friday evening, we were perusing the shelves at Blockbuster in Pearland. For all you youngsters, Blockbuster was a place where you rented VHS movies. Not a fancy date but a movie night nonetheless. The good stuff didn’t take place during the movie anyhow.
We had been pouring over the movie selection for a good while. Most we had watched. Those we hadn’t were already checked out. We decided to divide and conquer at one point, on the hunt for the perfect Friday night flick. After spinning our wheels, we meandered back towards each other. Standing next to him, I’m sure I was thinking, look at my guy. Ain’t he cute? I’m a lucky girl!
I am five foot nothing. Vertically challenged to say the least. I may even be closer to the ground these days. The shelves that held the movies were just under five feet. I know this because I could barely see over the top of them. Flip side of this is that other movie seekers could see my face over the top of the shelf.
We were standing side by side. Again, I’m sure I was thinking something along the lines of ain’t he cute, when out of nowhere, Stuart farted making a sound that can only be compared to the quack of an angry duck. Just as the quack died down, he looked down at me and said, Booger in an accusatory tone, quickly ducking (no pun intended) down behind the shelves. He was “laughing like a school boy.” (His words after we reminisced over this memory a few minutes ago.) You can just imagine the scene can’t you? Mind you, it was a Friday evening. Everyone and their dog was on the hunt for a flick.
There I was, barely visible above the shelving flashing like a dadgum neon sign.
I was mortified. I cried and walked out. I don’t remember how the rest of the evening played out. But I vividly remember the snickers and stares.
If he were to do that today, I would own it, rest assured!
Thanks to my mustached manchild for making me the woman I am today!