Guys' Night
{This is ONE BIG BEER, huh? Yummy Yuck. I've never been much of a beer person. But this is not remotely the point of the post. It's just that as I was writing the post and circumnavigating that actual point, I couldn't stop looking at the vast mug of beer up there and thinking how it is blistering hot out there and that amber frothy goodness does look quite refreshing. I wonder if you can become a beer drinker this late in life? Have I missed my chance?}
A number of Husband's college buddies are in town. Bison brothers. Soccer teammates. Groomsmen. These are the guys from his animated and silly stories, the faces from his photographs, the names that pepper Husband's pre-me past. These are good guys. Fun guys. And because predictable things like kids and jobs and geography and life have gotten in the way, Husband sees these guys all too rarely. So Husband is happy they are here. And I am too.
Yes, I am happy they are here even though that means that the responsible critter who is Husband will reminisce and revert slightly. To his college guy, soccer stud, beer-loving self. Last night, Husband went out to meet the guys and I stayed home with the kids. Before he left the house, I saw that boyish glimmer in his eyes. When he came home at 1:30am, a time at which neither of us is ever up, I sat up in bed. Wide-eyed. I wanted the stories. But the details were sparse. Burgers and beer. Downtown. A brief stint at a club. A table with bottle service.
Husband is a bit tired today. Far better than I would be if I had an impromptu college reunion. But he also seems happy, in a youthful, silly, Saturday kind of way. And I like this. Because we grow up, but it is sometimes nice to go back. Even if it is for a night. Even if it is vicariously.
Tonight, I am in on the fun. We will meet up for what promises to be a more civilized evening. Dinner at a hopping Greenwich Village oldie-but-goodie followed by who knows what. Actually, I know what it will be followed by. For me at least. It will be followed by fierce hugs and big smiles and goodbyes and a cab ride uptown to let Nanny go. But I am going to encourage Husband to stay out and misbehave a little. To make a momentary effort to forget about the adult existence that encapsulates him. To savor the dregs of slipping youth, the goofy memories of glory days, the bold laughter and timeless love of good friends.
{Footnote to keep it real: I read this post to Husband. And he liked it. But then I said to him, "You know, I don't really want you to go out after dinner tonight." And he said, "Oh, so you just want to appear to be the Good, Selfless Wife?" And I said: "Exactly."}
Why do we say and write things we don't mean to seem like someone we aren't? More importantly, what should I wear tonight?