Hello again everyone.
As many of you know, Hollywood has a boyfriend (can you believe it?). His name is Danny Freiberger. A good Italian boy. Engineering student. Energy to burn. Drives a Jeep Wrangler. Big Cardinal baseball fan. No earrings. No visible tattoos. Knows how to treat a lady (like a gentleman would, of course).
So, it seems he passes many of my general qualifications for dating any of my girls. As such, it occurred to me the other day that I had not yet given him the “talk”. No, not THAT talk … that’s up to his Dad. My talk. The one that goes something like, “You make my daughter cry — I kill you. Slowly. Painfully. Publicly.
I was sitting in the kitchen and young Freiberger was sitting across the table from me. I recalled having recently asked Hollywood if I had had the talk with Danno. She said no. Sitting there I thought to myself, “Self, this is the perfect time to have the talk”. So I started. Then, before I could get to the punch line, he started telling a story about some wedding that I could care less about. It went on and on.
I was beginning to believe that he didn’t want me to have the talk with him. I think he may have thought it was the other “talk”. What am I stupid?? I’m not giving him any ideas.
Anyway, I finally stopped his long winded rendition of what seemed like “Gone with the Wind” and gave him the short, direct, man to man speech. His face reflected total fear.
I think he acknowledged that he understood (but I’m really not sure). I’m watching for any sign of tears from Hollywood and sharpening my tools just in case.
Thanks for reading and stay tuned.