This post was one of my favorites from my previous blog quartercenturydown.blogspot.com. Enjoy!
Have you ever kissed a toad? Of course you have! Everyone kisses toads in their lives.
Hasn’t your mother ever said to you, “You’ve got to kiss a lot of toads before you get a Prince”? Whether she used frogs or toads in this analogy is beside the point. If by some stroke of luck your mother has never had to utter these words, consider yourself the luckiest person in the world.
Due to my recent dating adventures, my mother has once again passed the afore mentioned wisdom on to me. I have determined the following: I hate when she says that!
Nobody wants to kiss a frog or a toad! It’s gross. I blame Disney.
For your amusement, I will now re-enact a toad encounter.
The setting is a nice, semi casual restaurant, complete with dim lighting and a secluded booth. The choice was perfect for a dinner date because it’s not too fancy, where you are overdressed with your pair of jeans and a nice top, yet a step up from M.C.’s so you’re ok. It’s about thirty minutes into the mindless first date chatter that you realize this isn’t going anywhere.
Your mind starts to wander a little. “I can’t believe I’m missing Real Housewives for this. No, that’s bad. This is good for me. Yes! Positive! Stay Positive! I did set the DVR, didn’t I? Where is my brain sometimes?? Let’s see. I curled my hair, then brushed my teeth, then looked at the dirty kitchen, then walked away from the dirty kitchen, then…grabbed the remote and set the DVR. Awesome it’s done. Phew”
The time goes on and you give it an honest try by throwing some humorous remarks in there and trying to engage in the occasional witty banter.
As you finish the meal and engage in the “I liked the potatoes but the chicken was a little dry” conversation, you realize [CRAP] this date went a lot better for him than it did for you. This is when you panic and prepare for the slightly awkward; I’ll walk you to your car, should we hold hands through our gloves action because you know the end of the night kiss is coming.
Lips collide. Maybe there were sparks, most likely there were not. One or both of you lie, saying how great of a time you had and then it’s over. In the end it was all relatively painless yet you are in desperate need of some comfort. This is when go home, grab some wine and see what excitement DVR has in store. Maybe later you will call your mom, ramble on about how you are going to end up an old spinster who talks to her cats while sitting in your rocking chair knitting them scarves and crying because you don’t even like cats in the first place. Her response to this highly theatrical musing is, “It’ll be ok. You have to kiss a lot of frogs (toads) before you meet your prince.”
And if your Mom is anything like my Mom, she will further comfort you by repeating a saying that I’ve heard since I was six years old, “Juilliard called. They’re still holding a spot for you.” From the other end of the phone, hysterical laughter commences.
For the record, I would now like to say something on behalf of the toads. In this circus act we call dating, women meet every kind of toad. Toads come in all shapes and sizes. There are pretty toads, average toads, big toads, small toads, loud toads, quite toads etc. And then there are the bat sh** crazy toads that are drawn to you for some reason or another and are in serious need of attention from mental health professionals. I digress.
There is nothing wrong with these toads; they just aren’t the right toads for you. Although I have never been a man, or ever claimed to know what they’re thinking, on some level the same must also be true.
Frustrations when dealing with toads are inevitable. That is what your mother, or friend is there for. To tell you that someday one of those toads will turn into a prince. Until then, think of toad encounters as humorous collections of stories you can share for years to come.
Or until they get written into a book…things to think about.
Until next time,