Guys, if you’re suave and debonair challenged, try a sundae.
The sugar Industry used to be my nemesis. It should be everyone’s enemy. They make sweet addictive products with no discernible benefit for consumer’s health. Right? Or at lease so I thought until this week. Everything has changed now. I endorse confections and believe sugar offer significant medicinal, psychiatric and marital benefits that have long gone unappreciated. My affection for confection came with two encounters of the weird kind that took place in rapid succession:
Encounter One at 12:00 Noon, Wednesday:
My older sister is remarkably fit and alert for a 93 year old, but she is now in a nursing home. She still can do some gardening if weather permits, she joins her family during holidays and is as well cared for as her circumstances allow.
Most days are uneventful and pleasant. Yesterday was our day to go out for lunch. It’s usually a fun occasion, brother sister nostalgic trip back to the long gone days of our youth. However, as I opened her door this time, I was frightened to see a thoroughly distraught woman. “I’m feeling trapped and I’m unable to tolerate another hour of this!” she complained.
When it came to articulating what it was that made her feel so stressed, she was unable to explain very well. However, for her at that moment, it was a highly emotional, dramatic experience. For me it was the kind of encounter that I hope to avoid and have difficulty understanding or coping with. “Let’s sit down on the bed” I suggested “and talk it out.”
After a few minutes of meandering discussion we saw were getting nowhere and agreed to thrash out the matter over lunch at a restaurant.
After a few minutes of meandering discussion we saw were getting nowhere and agreed to thrash out the matter over lunch at a restaurant. By the time the waitress brought the main course, Sis was feeling slightly better but it was difficult to judge what remained of the “distressing something”. Then suddenly the whole scene changed for the better! What quickly transformed her attitude (and stunned me) was an explosion of whip cream atop a pool of chocolate sauce all dripping down a monster mountain of vanilla ice-cream.
When the Sundae Colossus arrived, instantly my sister became Princess Charming, humorous and entertaining as she can often be. The depression-to-joy change was breath taking. I don’t practice medicine, but I promise you no psychotic drug cocktail of any strength could have brought about a happier result for both of us.
Let’s be frank guys: When a woman we care about loses it, has a meltdown, or blows up, we feel helpless and are left wondering, ” OMG! Now what do I do now?” Yes yes I know. They tell you to be patient, listen respectfully, bite your tongue, be a saint and listen some more. Sad to say guys are not always saints or even patient. Guys also have feelings, and usually those feelings urge us to find the remedy … quickly
Encounter Two 3:00 pm Wednesday the same day:
The lesson of lunch with Sis might have been lost on me were it not followed immediately by another distraught but much younger woman. Twice in one day makes for a learning event for the slowest of guys. Wednesday afternoons I walk my grandkids home from school.
Those of you who pick up kids after school know they can be grumpy, hungry or go incommunicado for a long periods. They are never violent or even hostile with this Grandpa, and in return I refrain from asking, “…..So, what happened in school today.” They are good kids, but with Grandpa, they can be closed mouth. My granddaughter that day was just as communicative as your clandestine KGB agent. No jovial bon Amie humor could pull her into a discussion or even elicit a full sentence. So, on we trudged down the frigid sidewalk like strangers, unpleasant and silent until we were well out of site of the school building.
Then miracle #2 of the day occurred just like with my sister.
Then miracle #2 of the day occurred just like with my sister. All it took this time was placing five small M&M candies in the palm of my ten year old granddaughter.
“Why thank you Jiji. I appreciate that!” she said with the amiable smile returning to her face. The disappointments and hurt feelings of the school yard were forgotten and we became buddies for the rest of the afternoon. Wow!
The evil witch’s spell had been shattered by a quarter ounce of colorful candy. I wish to be thought of as suave, debonair and charming by women both young and old. In addition I would like to believe I have skills to help them back to good humor when they have a bad hair day.
Now it seems chocolate sundaes and M&Ms beat suave/debonair every time. With that realization, I am submitting my resignation from the “anti sugar bowl caravan”.
If you liked this post, check out one of my earlier works that relates.
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A while back as she consumed a hefty chocolate bar I carelessly commented to my beloved wifemate “Ya know, you’ve been eating a lot of candy lately.” The response was immediate and daunting: “It ISN’T candy, it is MEDICINE and you DON’T want to see me unmedicated!” Lesson learned….