Its been a busy year for me. When I haven’t been acting like a 22 year old dancing on table tops and going clubbing and having all in all riot of a time, I have been….
Getting divorced.
Sewing all those wild oats I didn’t sew before I met my ex-husband in my very, very early twenties.
Selling and moving house.
Buying a new car.
Renovating new place.
To sum up, starting a new life.
And then just as I was sorting things out and really getting to grips with all of the above, along came the T-Rex who as we all know, shook me the hell up and made me think, what do I want to do with the rest of my life?
Do I want another husband?
Do I want a boyfriend?
Do I just want a Friends with Benefits (Loaf, if you are reading, you are divine, absolutely divine, God do you make me laugh and darling, I will never look at a lollipop the same way again….)?
And do I miss the T-Rex?
Hell bloody yes I miss him.
It has been a month since I told him to grow a pair and ahem, I guess it isn’t going too well or he would have called by now.
God help Miss Solid Wifely Potential, cause I know I will be his wife one day, I just had hoped I could save him a lot of time and money by becoming his first wife, not his second.
Great, just call me Camilla. Jesus, I can pick ‘em.
And ironing the boys’ sheets this morning I got to thinking what my mother would say to me (didn’t help that I went out to dinner with a friend last night that says so many things she used to say!) and I know what she would say.
She would say I have to let him make this mistake. Which is exactly what I am doing.
But I gotta be honest, the T-Rex is someone that I wanted to share my children with (not pay their school fees, I can do that thank you!) and he’s made me think.
Deep down, I know I want to eventually meet someone that I like and trust enough to introduce to the boys. A grown up man. On the surface T-Rex is a grown up, but deep down he’s not really. He would be like marrying a third child, except I would be negotiating Skydiving time versus Nintendo time with him.
Let’s face it, as gorgeous as you Toyboys are, you are not, in the main, looking to become stepfathers, nor are we gorgeous older women auditioning you for that role.
A lot of women on TBW have kids in their teens or grown children, so I am in the minority because my children are quite young. Any man (toyboy or older) I would bring into my life seriously, would have to be happy to be with me and yes, them too.
My 24 year old Manny seems to be a Toyboy (yes, he very unhelpfully, oh so unhelpfully loves and only dates older women) and one that loves hanging out with kids too. When the T-Rex came up in conversation while I was ironing a shirt for a date with someone my own age (see below) the look of abject ‘what a tosser’ on his face made me feel a million times better!
Big brownie points for that Leo honey, BIG.
Now, I absolutely categorically cannot and must not shag the Manny. And, let’s be completely frank here, not that he would want to shag me.
Yes, I am gorgeous, but he is in a different galaxy of gorgeousness. While I don’t generally think too many people are out of my league, he is. Thank God.
But here’s the thing, I am tired of good old NSA fun. I want a boyfriend.
There I said it.
(NB: if any of you toyboys are interested, please let me know at admin@toyboywarehouse.com , but I mean it, I want a boyfriend, not NSA fun, not a fling, not it all depends on the person, I want a f-ing proper boyfriend).
While the Loaf and I have never talked about it, I think what we have (oh and it just keeps getting better on lots of fronts, dang, dang, dang) suits us both just fine. If we tried to make it more than it is (I am actually only 6 years older than he is), it might spoil and that is the last thing I want. He makes me laugh, gives awesome foot massages, cooks….he is just so lovely. Maybe he is an urban myth? A unicorn? A hologram?
If I am going to date guys my own age, I certainly would love to continue to have the tasty warm Loaf in my life to keep me from being bored to tears in and out of the bedroom (am I being too cynical already about this?)!!!
Anyway, anyway, like I was saying….right then, with this in mind I thought, time to at least explore the idea of dating someone my own age or older. Ahem.
To find him, I have signed up to a dating site run by one of the broadsheet Sunday papers.
And what do you know?!? There are a lot of men on there that are my age or older that like the opera, have chalets in Switzerland and/or castles in Scotland. Some of them even like silly movies like me.
These men don’t even know what an MSN chat is, let alone ask me if I fancy one.
Some are fit, some are not, but they all seem very PLU (People Like Us). Okay, they may not be toyboys, but its not as dire as I thought it would be.
Was pretty easy to get a date too, I mean we are talking about me, honestly.
He is in his late 30’s and good looking. Good family, good school, witty. Possible Barbour fetish.
We had our first date a few weeks ago. It was fun, quite fun. He texted and called after the date to say what a blast he’d had. He calls once or twice a week to have a little chat.
He asked me to a charity Ball and he wants to take me away to a country house hotel for the weekend sometime. He wants to show me off. I’ll go along with that, cause, divorced or not, two kids or not, I am highly show-offable, especially at black tie do’s (any-bloody-where actually) in lashings of family emeralds.
He just called (its Sunday) to ask me out for Friday. Like a gentleman should.
He is good solid Boyfriend material.
God the irony.
Ms. Magnolia
