Friends

The Amster came over this afternoon. She's been on vacation with the boys and a variety of friends and relatives for the last 10 days and her absence has been noted both here and at the gym. I'm known as half of a duo; "Where's your partner in crime" has been the dominant theme on the weight floor this week.

We lolled on the noodles in the pool and brought each other up to date on our lives. G'ma's move, what I'd done in the gym, how she liked the books I'd lent her, her divorce papers, Mr. 6's repeating the shark explanation (with all the seriousness the subject deserved) to any and all who would listen.... the mundane and the profound mixing easily together as we reveled in each other's company.

Dinner was Costco's Chicken Alfredo - an unhealthy but delicious and easy to heat casserole - and salad and garlic bread and way too much wine. The Big Cuter was keeping up with us, glass for glass, drinking the odd beer he'd purchased at Wally-World once he heard that Amster was planning on needing a ride home at the end of the evening. Conversation at the table was legal and family and travel and cars and sunshine and laughter. Dinner could have gone on all night.

But, we're teaching the Amster the joys of old movies, so off to Douglas we went, for the 1940 version of Pride and Prejudice. Greer Garson is too old, and Olivier is too gay, but it's still a wonderful (if somewhat heavy handed) way to spend a couple of hours. Amster had a hard time keeping track of the characters at first, but whether that was because it's in black and white or because we were still imbibing is difficult to tell. We laughed and cheered and worried and smiled and generally had a fabulous time.

And running through the evening was a common theme - Amster and the Big Cuter share a cultural zeitgeist which often excludes TBG and me. The Duchess??? Apparently, it's a movie starring Keira Knightley. They knew all about it; TBG and I were clueless. They agreed that Pierce Brosnan's version of The Thomas Crown Affair was a much better viewing experience than was the Steve McQueen version (though the Big Cuter admitted that the earlier movie was "a better film") and no amount of description or lustful sighing on my part could convince the Amster that Steve McQueen was waaaaaaay hotter than Pierce Brosnan ever could hope to be. They're closer to each other's age and have friends each other's age and for a while I was feeling weird about the whole thing.

But then I had to smile. TBG and I are truly at another inflection point in our lives. Our friends are now attractive to our children. The Big Cuter was genuinely glad to spend the evening with the Amster. They had conversations. They exchanged one-liners. They admired each other's intellect and reason. And TBG and I just loved it.

If only the Little Cuter had been here, too..........