High Standards

I was talking to Seattle this afternoon and she brought something to my attention. It is something that Husband once said to me. It was hard to hear, but in hindsight o may have to agree.

When the time comes to give our children the lectures about decision making, I may not be qualified to give those talks. I apparently have a history of bad judgment. I will let you know the two reasons my friend and my love have called me out.

1. Back in the day when I ran on my college track, we took a trip to a meet that left us in one of those motels where you walk outside to your room. After a water and ice fight that got us reported to management, we decided to go to the. All we saw on our way in. The problem was that it was on the other side of the highway. So what did we do? We ran down the hill, across the highway , and up the other side. Did I mention that I had on a maxi-dress and platform style shoes with the one strap across the top of the foot?  I will admit it was not my shinning moment and apparently a deal breaker in teaching our children about making good choices.

2. For our very first date, my sweet loving Husband took me a movie and to get a bite to eat. That is pretty normal, right? Well, he took me to fairly old movie theater in the middle of the hood. I don't pretend like I am from a good neighborhood. I am a hood girl through and though, but this place was so hood that I am sure that I could have bought weed at the concession stand. I am also reconsidered going to the bathroom because it reminded me of Halloween in high school. I just knew that there was a girl waitin in there to put lye/bleach in my hair or steal my purse. Not only did he take me to this hardcore theater, but he took me to see How High with Method Man and Redman. That should tell you what kind of movie that was. After that he took me to eat at Hooters. I am convinced that this was some kind of test. I am sure that my staying and not flinching was directly linked to his
proposing. I tell this story laughing, but it dawned on me that on that day when my sweet baby girl starts to date, I am going to have to explain why I not only did not leave, but married the guy who took me to Hooters. (In my defense, he was a good choice!)

I am not saying I agree, but I am sensing a pattern and they may have a point.