The Game of Life

Rex is playing computers games with the boys tonite. Yes, it really is as sexy as it sounds. In more lurid detail (this is your chance to be saved from the nerd virus that might attack your computer from this post) he and three guys are meeting in someone's office, hooking up their servers and getting high on Coca Cola and nachos, all the while screaming, "You bastard! You killed my wonder!"

It never ceases to amaze me that this man, who is not much of a talker, has made his living networking (c0mputers, that is.) Small talk? Not my husband. But ask him about his GTO and you'll get way more than an ABC answer. Someone have a baby? He'll ask about the delivery, but not the kind that involves labor. He's more concerned in how the child was delivered home. (In my case, after birthing Stink, I drove us home in a 1994 Saturn coupe, stopping first at the Canoga Park McDonalds for a Fish Filet and Diet Coke - a highly recommended treat to anyone who's just pushed an 8 pounder out their hoo hoo.)

What makes Rex such a character is just when I think he has the mind of a computer, he sends me flowers on a whim (Okay, not that often. But it's been known to happen.) This is someone who, at 6'3, still gets down on his hands and knees and plays "drop the baby" or "push over Papa" or tells me how much he loves me for all my wackiness. The other night, as we were drifting to sleep, he whispered, "Can you believe how far we've come in just seven years?" Then he added "... And just look at all the cars on the road. Isn't all this techonological advancement amazing?"

The last part kind of killed the mood, but it did help put me to sleep.

In concluding this rather goopy post, let me be the first to state that there are weeks when I'm ready to kill Rex, and him me. (If I didn't admit this, Stella would, or anybody that knows me. Facade and me don't exactly go hand in hand.) But then I have weekends like this past one, full of family and friends and walks, and I'm once again reminded how lucky I am. To quote K, "Life is not an episode of Friends." Life is last minute trips to Kaiser, vowing to lose that last five pounds then downing an entire bag of pink and white Mother's Circus Animal Cookies, over-spending the house budget then bitching about lack of Ebay sales, looking forward to a trout dinner than realizing you instead bought tripe, over sleeping, over caffeining, canceling bbqs, putting them on again last minute, watching Scooby Doo twelve million times, vowing to walk, sitting on your duff, and yes, putting the kids to bed yourself so your husband can geek out over Age of Empires.

We all have a turn at the Game of Life. Sure, most of us hope we'll spin that dial and end up self-made millionaires. But the truth is, at the end of the game, many of us end up with small homes (that look just like our neighbors) and regular cars. And after popping out all those kids, how realistic is it that we'll keep those stick figures forever? I won't anyway. Not with my penchant for Candy Land. I'm thinking I can deal with this Game of Life as long as I still have Trival Pursuits.

* Pictured: Rex this morning with Pipsqueak. Just another example of a man who won't let you touch his toothpaste. You take one piece of his perfectly stacked gum from his car dashboard and you'll hear about it for weeks. Last minute trips to Costco for a hotdog. Are you insane????? But a little girl comes up to him begging for his breakfast? It's all over.