Double sigh
I fear this story may mean I’ve earned cougar stripes (or should I say spots?). I mean, there was no official “welcome to the club,” but I find myself wearing more animal print spandex, my gel nails are abnormally long, and I do let out a sigh when I see a meme of Ryan Gosling, so I think all the signs are there.
It was the summer of 2009, my daughter was about to turn 5 and though we were pretty sure she was destined to be a landlubber. We had tried swim lessons since she was 6 months old — again and again. We took classes. We took private lessons. We switched instructors, and offered rewards. I had made one last appointment, vowing that if this failed, I’d simply keep the baby fence around the pool until she left for college.
The owner of the swim company showed up at my house with more paperwork than any person about to get wet should be carrying. She was ready to rate my little one’s ability, and chart her goals on a timetable. When we were all done with the written exam, she
checked to see if the swim instructor was nearby.
“Aren’t you the swim instructor?” I casually asked.
“No, Mr. Jeff will be here any minute.”
Well unless Mr. Jeff is a girl, which seems highly unlikely, we might have a problem.
“The only thing my daughter hates more than being told how to do something, is being told how to do something by a boy. She pretty much just started acknowledging my husband in the last few days. Soooo, you may want to pop on a bikini,” I reasoned.
“Don’t worry. Mr. Jeff is great with the kids. That’s him now.”
As I walked to the door, I continued to protest, “I’m just a little nervous about Mr. Je…HELLO Mr. Jeff! Yes, sure…of course. We can totally give Mr. Jeff a try. I mean he came all the way out here, I’d hate to turn him away.”
Yes, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s true. So, my daughter took her hour lesson and by the end, I felt $45 was a fair price of admission. I mean lessons.
No, I mean admission. When was the last time I enjoyed watching some 20 something hottie disrobe? Maybe when I was 20 something. Though I don’t remember drooling quite as much. As I observed from my lounge chair, a veritable Blanche DuBois, sipping my sweet Southern tea (okay, it was iced green tea… I need the extra anti-oxidants at my age), it dawned on me that I had turned the corner and I was now a cougar.
What does this mean? Will I start buying drinks for guys with a lift of my glass and a wink?
Will I get hair extensions, pad my bra, learn to put on fake eyelashes, cut bangs so I don’t need Botox? (Oh, wait, I’ve already done all that. Shit.)
I’m living the cliche. In fact the only thing that would be more cliche about this scenario, is if Jeff was cleaning my pool instead of swimming in it.
So, I decided maybe this was the bad idea I originally thought it was. Luckily, I mean, unfortunately, my daughter was totally smitten with Jeff, so we couldn’t let him go — she liked the way he joked around, and how Jeff sang swim songs as they traveled around the pool. I think she was even partial to his blue eyes and defined pecs. No wait, that was me.
For weeks every Tuesday and Thursday, Mr. Jeff would come to my house uber focused on the lesson and never glanced in my direction. I sat myself on the lawn chair, sipped my tea, and convinced myself that Mr. Jeff was gay. Coincidentally, my outfits may have gotten skimpier as I came to this conclusion. What? I had to make sure.
Look, I didn’t want anything to happen. No, like any aging Mom, who often feels like a hot 20 something on the inside, I simply wanted to be noticed. Maybe get a,“Gee, Miss Jenny, it sure is hot out here. Could I have some of that there tea?” What? Did I make him sound a little too Forest Gump?
What about a reason to say something like, “Sorry Mr. Jeff, but I’m a married woman.”(Slap optional)
No? Ok, how about, he gets out of the pool all hot, water streaming down his six pack abs and he can’t find his towel… because I have it! “whip” I flick it at him. “Looking for this, stud?”
Did I take it to far? I think I took it too far.
It’s funny, swimming lessons were supposed to make me feel more secure, but somehow they had the opposite effect. In the end, Mr. Jeff taught Ryan how to swim, in too short of a time, if you ask me.
He never gave me any sense that I was desirable, though he did say my friends could get $5 off each lesson, which I’m pretty sure was code for, “You are a total MILF!” or “I’m very gay.”
Here’s a random pic of me and Mr. Jeff
Either way, next week I’m scouting out a new lawn guy.
XO,
Jenny From the Blog
AMEN sister! Amen, amen, amen.
I feel like we should break into gospel.
Love it! Although I have to say you are far braver than me as I like to have that “I never noticed how hot you were” attitude from afar. Indifference is totally sexy, right?
Indifference is just as sexy as a 30whatever in short shorts looking out over the rims of her sunglasses. My way just makes a better story!
Amen!
Loved it! Shared it!
Thanks love!
Live this, Jenny!
Wow- autocorrect or Freud?? – I meant to say… Love this!
I sooooo liked it better when it was live this LOL
Amen, mama.
LOVE!
Amen!
Shit, you totally nailed it
*takes bow*
karen – I liked it better the first wayLOL
At 36 and a half, I have learned to embrace my cougarness. (is that a word?) I started dating younger men when I was 29 and never looked back. I am now a divorced single mother of two small children (Yeah, i accept that maybe the younger husband thing was a bad idea) I used to freak out about being a cougar…but ya know…you only live once…..I say embrace it! My current man is 23 😉 …. he’s not mr. Right….but he’s a damn fine “Mr. Right Now” 😉
Could you send a picture. I mean, well, if it works for you good luck. (plus a picture would be nice for those of us married folk)
Ok…am I the only one…PICTURES!!!! Couldn’t you casually snap a few. You know. To document the lessons…yeah that’s it. Document the lessons.
I wish this hadn’t happened a while back the only pictures I have are seared into my memory.
I WANT TO BE A MILF! Especially if Ryan Gosling is offering! Jennyyyyyy! You’re hilarious!
Thanks love. I know Ryan is kinda hot in his own way! My way.
I know of what you speak. The day the crew came to slather pebbletech in my pool was a day to remember. I could have made a fortune selling front row seats to my mommy friends. It was the way they used their hands as they smoothed the pebbles and grout….back muscles rippling in the heat…..
Sounds fun, how long does that shit last? The pebbletech that is?
I have the same thing with my electrician and my vet. That is really why I still drive to boca for my dog’s well check
I keep telling you to switch to my vet they could have a hot vet off and I’d put money on mine… plus he’s closer. You can always trade a smidgen of hotness for convenience. Oh, to be a lazy cougar.
O.K. You can join the club… But there’s a really long line
So funny!!! Especially luvd the pic! Sounds like a movie in the works!
Btw, I really like the “live this”! I think that could be a new bumper sticker!
Agreed!!!
Sounds like you’re having way too much fun to me, why not indeed! Love the “Miss Jenny” Forest Gump scenario 🙂
Anything sounds sexy these days. Don’t ya think?
So reassuring to find that this is normal and rational behaviour. I agree, it’s just fun ogling, like appreciating art!
My daughters are almost Mr. Jeff’s age and all strong swimmers. Also I don’t have a pool or a back yard.
But if he’d be willing to come over and teach the cats how to swim, in a bucket on my back balcony… I would totally take him up on that $5 off deal…
You know, for the cats, I’d hate for them to accidentally drown in the toilet or anything.
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This is awesome. I had a moment tonight in line getting groceries. The guy was like “Hey, it’s ok if your daughter plays with that ball just don’t let her roll it at people and trip them” I was just like “ok, yeah, whatever, don’t trip people and don’t put that candy in your mouth I’m not buying it.” … Putting my stuff on the conveyor belt and then I looked up and he was this tall hansome young guy with adorable eyes. Then he was like “Do you drink almond milk?” … And suddenly his attractiveness was making me all nervous! Almond milk? What? Huh? No, maybe, why? is he hitting on me? … I think my actual answer was “I don’t know” and then he said “there is a great sale on Almond milk on aisle 3” … Yep, just as I suspected. He is totally hitting on me. I am totally a MILF.