We had been living together for a couple of years and it was proving to be a healthy, fun loving, passionate, mature relationship. I love Mister Man more each day and he seems to adore me right back. Being older and wiser myself, Mister Man and I have realistic expectations of love. Unlike previous relationships, Mister Man was not expected, by me, to be the leading role in THE NOTEBOOK; likewise, I was not required to be an air brushed, anorexic female on the cover of SPORTS ILLUSTRATED. Simply put, a combination of Brad Pi sprinkled with Steve Martin, splashes of Axel Rose, topped with my dad was no longer what I was looking for.
Fortunately, Mister Man did not have expectations of me being a combination of Carmen Electra, Goldie Hawn with sparkles of Rachael Ray and hints of his…mother? Yea! He loves me and I love him. Both of us constantly fighting fifteen hateful pounds, wisdom forging the new-found wrinkles, droopy, draggy parts and all. For the most part, this relationship is shaping up to be a pleasant, lovely experience.
However, the first time we hit a slight bump in the road, there was no doubt an elephant in the room. It was awkward and very uncomfortable. Because there was literally an elephant in the room. A large, ceramic pinkish, brownish, greyish elephant that Mister Man had prominently placed on the end table. He was snacking on chips and salsa when I walked into the living room and saw it. My eyes got big as saucers and my jaw nearly dropped to the ground as I saw the unbearably tacky mammal gracing my coffee table. It looked like something my Great Grandma Elda would have picked out.
“Well, what do you think?” Mister Man asked. I acted like I didn’t know what he was talking about and began putting the groceries away. It was not like him to randomly purchase home décor and I was praying he was not about to start now. It was true that our home needed some sprucing up, as ouritems were an equal blend of his and mine, and we had not yet found a theme that was united. It was also true that I had been making comments about wanting to redecorate and start from scratch. Apparently he was moved by the mammal and was inspired to contribute to the living room. And it was so sweet, which is what put the gurative elephant in the room. How do you tell somebody that you love that the one item he selected with the very best of intentions happens to be the ugliest creature you have ever seen.
I was torn. Does one lie like a Persian rug and say, “Wow, Babe! Love the elephant! It is just awesome!” or be honest and say, “seriously, Babe? Are you out of your ever loving mind? at is the ugliest, tackiest thing that I have ever laid my eyes on!” Fortunately, my phone rang. It was my best friend Bonnie. I walked out to the car to get more groceries. It was a perfect opportunity to get advice from Bon Bon about the situation. “There is a flipping elephant in the room, Bonnie, and I don’t know what to do.” I explained to Bon the situation and she literally choked on her gum from laughter. After she got the gum dislodged from her throat she regained her composure. “You need to tell him that you love it. And it just so happens that you overheard his mother talking about wanting a cute little elephant for her living room. Explain that giving her the elephant would be the right thing to do.”
Brilliant! I walked back into the house and gave Mister Man the argument. “Well, as a matter of fact,” he said…“the elephant is a gift from Mom. Babe, what are we going to do? That is the ugliest thing I have ever laid my eyes on.” Just as those words came out of his mouth the doorbell rang. “Hi Mom!” Mister Man and I both knew, that from now on when Mom came by, (as much as we adore her) there would always be an elephant in the room.