Which is how I ended up wining and dining Fabulous Fanny yesterday when she came down for her annual general meeting. Not easy getting ahold of this busy queen bee but I managed to con her into sharing a roast peking duck.
When she's not busy tracking down gullible clients to talk them into parting with their generous wallets, Fanny's usually trying to avoid the bevy of equally gullible men trailing behind her offering their hearts. Wouldn't surprise me if they were one and the same :P Despite the fact that she cleans up real nice, it always astonishes me to find her fending off persistent admirers - but then again, I'm the older cousin who has seen her rising up in the morning to stand in line for the communal family bathroom with her fair face utterly devoid of make-up and cosmetic artifice with unflattering bedhead and morning drool.
Unaware of the disastrous morning transformation, the men still do come knocking on her red door ( lucky her dammit! ). Including a certain clingy ex-boyfriend who stuck to her desperately like a leech when told that it's over.
Fanny : I finally dumped him.
Paul : It's only been six months. But that's a record, I guess.
Fanny : Very funny. He's an approval-seeking mama's boy, he can't make any decisions for himself... hell, he can hardly stand up for himself. I practically have to prop him up with a pretend spine.
Paul : Uh. Yuck.
Fanny : I certainly wouldn't want a macho macho man like the guys in the family but I wouldn't want to date a wimp either!
Paul : Dump him then.
Couldn't agree fast enough. Of course we talked for hours on her stringent criteria for the perfect boyfriend going through several pots of black tea - in between various tidbits on the scandalous affaires of my other cousins.
She did make some good points.
Do you really have to do this? See, I do actually have a spine!
Although I thought Fanny could be a tad critical at times, let's face it I'm certainly no different since I found myself nodding along as she ranted about her mating misadventures with Pew Wimp Herman.
Since I have no real desire to play the role of the dashing prince charging to the rescue, I wouldn't want someone who'll cling to me like a spineless limpet either. Seriously rather than praying blindly for the arrival of some mysterious dashing benefactor, I'd expect the guy to rescue himself ala MacGyver!
Mama's boy he may be but I would expect the guy to be able to make up his own mind. I wouldn't want an undecided simpleton depending on me to make the decisions all the time, desperately waiting to be taken care of. God knows I'm no surrogate father material. Not when it comes to my boyfriend dammit. If I wanted someone to take care of, I'd get a pet chihuahua.
Monstrous, aren't I? But then my boyfriend definitely won't be placed on a shiny pedestal to be worshipped, to be perceived as perfectly infallible and utterly flawless from head to toe. Iconic saints don't work for me - and I certainly wouldn't want him to look at me that way either. It would be mighty disconcerting to be held up to such impossible ideals since I'm far from a charming prince and closer to a toad, warts and all.
I want a marriage of equals with a man who'll stand tall by my side. Not that I'm in any need of rescuing but it would be nice to know that he'd be strong enough to lend a hand if I needed it.