Friday, June 20, 2008

What's age got to do with it?
I was looking for some pure, unadulterated trash to read and I remembered an author mentioned by a dear friend (a.k.a. "the Lurker"), so I checked out the writer Jennifer Crusie. The book I picked up is called Anyone But You. It was nicely humorous, had a sexy hero, and had a dog as one of the main characters (a plus in my book). But there was one big problem with the book as far as I'm concerned: the issue keeping the heroine from jumping into the arms of the hero was the fact that he was 10 years younger than she.

Husband is 10 years younger than I and it never, for one moment, occurred to me that he was too young/I was too old. The heroine in the book (Nina) just turned 40 and the hunky young ER doctor downstairs just turned 30. That's pretty much exactly the ages Husband and I were when we started dating. Nina was all freaked out because she had 40-year old breasts and didn't want to date "a child." Am I really weird that this never bothered me?

Perhaps I'm dreadfully immature. Perhaps Husband is unusually mature (he is -- but still delightfully goofy). But I honestly never notice the age difference. Even now the only time we notice it is when we compare notes about childhood cartoons and songs that remind us of high school.

Husband is also of a different race than I. And from a completely different background. I'm the youngest of 5 of a typical mom and dad family, solidly middle class, thoroughly suburban. He was raised by a single mom with very little money in Philadelphia. On paper, it would seem unlikely for us to be friends, let alone spouses.

And yet he is perfect for me. I knew it on our first date when he knew all the words to I'll Be Glad When You're Dead You Rascal, You. That was also the day I found out that he was 10 years younger. And I experienced not one moment of "oh god, he's just a puppy!" Not for one minute did I hesitate to jump with both feet into wherever that crazily wonderful first date was leading.

So I just couldn't understand the heroine's angst about how young he was. It was completely foreign to me. I'm not sure if that makes me odd, well adjusted, or just not concerned about other people's opinion. (It was probably that last one ... I'm notorious for not caring what people think.) But it's also amusing, in a way, because the whole younger woman-older man thing is still more common and, therefore, more acceptable to society. But hey, if society wants to think I'm robbing the cradle, so be it. I don't mind. After all, I'm the one with the Husband who knows the Frankfurter Sandwiches song...

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