I Say LL, You Say…
Once upon a time, filling in this sentence would’ve been simple. Totally clear-cut. Um, hello? LL was my boyfriend.
My then real-life boyfriend knew the deal: LL could take his place at any moment. I even saw LL in concert once when I was a grad student at Tufts. For free! Okay, not really free…more like many thousands of dollars if you really figure it. Whatever. I got a degree and saw LL!
Now I’m old. He’s old. I’m a mom; he’s a dad. We’ve gone our separate ways, but we’ll always have the nineties.
Now, well, I’m going through a bit of an identity crisis. What can I say, when I hear LL, I think Bean.
There, I’ve said it. I’m one credit card away from becoming my mother. (But don’t think I don’t use her card. Free shipping! Ka-ching!)
It started small…a shirt or two for my husband. A lunchbox for my son. Adirondack chairs.
The catalogs flow in. I browse. It’s my civic duty to review the mail before recycling. It’s an obligation, really.
Years ago, I told myself if I ever purchased Bean clothes for myself, I’d pack it in. Done. Freakin’ old fart. The Bean had its place — flannel, fleece, sleeping bags, backpacks, random camping sh*t I would never, ever buy in a million years. Mama don’t camp.
But women’s clothes? Nev-ah!
So I got another catalog in the mail last week and my throat almost closed up. I actually liked the shirt on the cover. And a sweater inside. Gulp. I questioned my loving husband, “Is the Bean making cute stuff now or am I getting old?” (You don’t ask my husband a question without getting an honest answer. It’s one of the things I love about him.) His response: “I think you’re meeting in the middle.”
Um, yeah, you coulda lied, dude. Like out of your undying love for me?
I know he’s right; we’re meeting in the middle. Gone are the days of dry clean only. Gone are the days of hand wash. Hooray for machine wash cold!
But welcome are the days of playing on the beach with my husband and son. Collecting shells and rocks. Splashing in the water. Filling buckets with sand and emptying them out. Over and over again. So what if I’m wearing my sensible swimsuit? (Not from the Bean, by the way.) So what if LL has moved on?
I got me my Boo. And damn, if he isn’t cute!