Thursday, November 11, 2010

Game Over

You know how people always say that you train your boyfriend for the next girl? Well, I’m not sure I fully believe that’s true, but lately I’ve been wondering if I’m doing just that.

No offense to SG#1 because he has many talents, but he is not a chef. In exchange for lessons about pop culture and music, I’ve been teaching SG#1 how to cook. And, since one must have an egg before they can cook a chicken, we started with lessons on grocery shopping for meals.

I know, I know, you’re already yawning at this blog post. “Poor me, I have a boyfriend that actually wants to learn how to grocery shop and cook.” BUT, as I help SG#1 sharpen his knife skills and ensure he knows how to pick the perfect avocado, am I preparing him to impress a younger, hotter version of me?

We started out at Trader Joe’s, me with my shopping list and reusable shopping bags and him with a look of mixed terror and excitement at the site of endless shelves filled with comestibles. We shared one cart and I quickly pulled my usuals off the shelves and threw them into my side of the cart like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep. SG#1 worked through the store more cautiously, and together we planned meals, committed to (attempting to) cook together at least once a week and filled the cart to the brim.

And then it happened.

My imagination went there.

You know, that place between reality and dreamland where you marry people in your head and picture your life together with 2.5 children and a white picket fence. I had successfully made it through five months of dating SG#1 without fully allowing my brain to take over my single-girl willpower, but there between organic bananas and boxes of quinoa I lost my game, all of it. I’m hoping SG#1 didn’t notice when I finally came-to and blushed, realizing I was making googly-eyed glances at him at the check stand. We loaded our bags into the car and I dropped off him and his groceries at his place. I must admit, there was a part of me wishing we were going home together to unload our groceries into our brushed metal refrigerator and make beautiful meals together – but the other 90 percent of me was completely freaking out, my game was over.

Then, a couple days later, I was counting up my dates and announced I had been on 78 dates. SG#1 got excited I was getting closer to 100, when he realized I meant I had been on 78 dates, not us together. “I don’t like being lumped together with all the other ones,” he exclaimed.

And that’s when I knew my game wasn’t quite over, but SG#1’s game was slowly taking a turn onto maple-lined, picket-fenced, Juniper Lane – and I secretly liked it.


  1. ready for another post, miss! why must you keep your readers waiting? ugh. impatient.

  2. SG#1's little brother is the worst in grocery stores He thinks they represent middle age and death because, "once you start going, you'll keep going forever until you die." So he copes with the few times he's accompanied me by getting the most ridiculous impulse purchases. Mini juice boxes of gatorade, bizarre frozen meals, fudge sticks, etc. Imagine taking an 8 year old shopping - one that has money and can buy anything he wants. Terrible. Glad to see SG#1 is just as terrified in grocery stores, if a little more responsible.