After Fifty - Living Dangerously

In July of last year, my fiftieth birthday came and went, actually with relatively little fanfare.  Unlike the immanent 12/21/12, the world did not end on my birthday.  I did not even get the usual black party or "over the hill" bash.  Basically, nothing happened.  Actually, though, something DID happen.  I began to live dangerously.   As my daughter said, "Gee, Dad, you've made FIFTY!  You've beaten the odds!"  We were discussing motorcycles at the time, and Child B (the daughter) was trying to encourage me to learn to ride a motorcycle.  And, oddly enough, I AM seriously considering it!  But today I have done what must surely be one of the most dangerous things a man can do. You would think at fifty I would know better, that I should have learned over the two decades of marriage.  Not me!

Yesterday my lovely bride told me she was getting a haircut today.  She wanted to get her hair "cut off."  So today, after work, I drove home eager 1) to see my spouse's lovely new haircut, and 2) to depart for Tampico, one of the better Mexican food restaurants in the Midland area.  Just as I pulled into the drive, I saw my son (Child A) walking toward our residence.  I joined him and we both entered my residence together.  There, seated on the couch, was my lovely bride and her new...er, um.  I told her, "Lovely Bride, you did not get your hair cut after all!" My spouse said, "What?!  I DID GET A NEW HAIRCUT!"   Like I said, having turned fifty, I really DO like living dangerously!

Child A, standing a few feet away, was already looking at me as if I were a distant but cherished memory.  He is not even thirty and HE knew I was now in the DANGER ZONE.  Thinking rather quickly for a fifty-year-old I said "Oh, Lovely Bride, they did your cut so well you can't even tell you've HAD a haircut."  The LAZER-EYES (as discussed in an earlier blog) were pointed in my direction, boring holes through my skull.  Child A, standing a few feet away, continued to stare at me as if I were a distant but cherished memory.  Thinking quickly again, I said, "Tampico?"  I was quickly out the door before Lazer Eyes could do any further damage.

Needless to say, the evening had a happy ending (else I would not now be writing these words).  Yes, we went to Tampico, with Child A in tow.  The Lazer Eyes were extinguished with a Tampico special Margarita and some good food a la the Botano Platter.  It was a great meal, and there was lots of laughter thanks to Child A's witty sense of humor.  The great meal was topped off by a stop at the local TCBY parlor, then home again.  With more quick thinking, I made numerous observations concerning the loveliness of my Lovely Bride's new hairdo.  I think that the combination of my silver tongue and the spouse's frozen Margarita won the day.  Now Child A is gone to his abode, and I am seated on the couch with my Lovely ( and somewhat mellowed) Bride.  She has a new hairdo and I am really enjoying my Year of Living Dangerously.