Earlier this week, I went with my friend and her 5-year old grandson to the Museum of Discovery and Science, just down the way in the center of Ft. Lauderdale.
I accompanied her ostensibly as support for a 5-year old boy set loose amidst all the wonders and activities housed therein. Really, I went for my own 5-year old boy to be set loose amidst all the wonders and activities housed therein. Shh, don’t tell her.
It came to me, after four fun-filled hours at the museum, that I have something of an odd kid-setting on so many of my relationships, with friends and those potentially more than.
Let’s get right out of the way that I take full responsibility for none of those “potentially more than” relationships ever changing my status from single. It’s easier and simpler to say there’s something wrong with me rather than I have repeatedly shown poor judgment (as if there’s a difference).
But I digress.
If I do the math, going back well into my past, I have been involved with a succession of single mothers who had, at the time, 5-year old boys. What makes this odd is the period of time we’re talking about here (about 20 years).
So, that means, somehow, from my 30’s to my 50’s, I always seem to be doing fun things with 5-year old boys (and, to a lesser extent, their Moms). I find this weird, though not particularly disturbing.
On the plus side, my last girlfriend had a daughter as well, so at least I’m broadening my horizons as I age. Perhaps it’s time I considered someone without children (probably more likely now, considering my turn towards my late summer years).
I can’t decide the chicken or the egg here. Have I never grown up because of all the 5-year old boys around me or do I tend to attract 5-year old boys (and, to a lesser extent, their Moms) because I’ve never grown up?
During my four hours of fun inside the Museum of Discovery and Science, I couldn’t care less about the answer.
Come to think of it, I’m free next weekend…anyone have a 5-year old you want to lend me?