Secret Decoder Rings

Everyone who has ever dated knows this stage of a relationship. It's the no-man's land between first meeting someone groovy and exclusivity. I have been at this stage more times than I care to remember with a motley crew (no, I did not date the band) of assorted lunatics, do-it-yourself projects and relatively nice guys.

So, as some of you know, I met Liquid Chocolate Eyes (I know - it's a horrible nickname - I have to work on a new one) online. Things have been going swimingly. However, both of us are still on the online dating website, a fact which makes me go a little loco from time to time. But, in the interests of being a "cool chick" I am trying to keep my jealousy under wraps.

LCE, however, displayed a good dose of it earlier this week. The simple fact is that, on this particular site, the men outnumber the women. And, ergo, I get way more emails. One day we were both online at the same time, and he msn'ed me to say "Hey." The exchange was a weird one, and it became apparent that he might be a scooch jealous (yay! a break through). When I tried to talk to him about it, he had to sign off. Abruptly.

I sent him an email indicating that I was considering taking my profile off, that I hadn't gone on a date since the first time he kissed me, and that, if he didn't want to take his profile off, that was his business, but that I didn't think I could continue indefinitely down the path we were going if he was actively seeking out other women.

Reponse to email:

Radio silence. Almost completely.

It has never been mentioned, and LCE was VERY absent this week. And then the following text exchange yesterday (reproduced only in part to avoid boring you, sweet audience):

LCE: Hey what's up this weekend? Are you doing renos?

Me: I know where there is free beer. However, there are also parental units :( And you might have to paint a deck.

LCE: You want me to drink beer around your parents?

Me: I don't think they would care much. I am 39 years old after all. All kidding aside, you are more than welcome to pop by this weekend, however, I assume that you have the typical male parental-unit aversion. If so, they leave Sunday afternoon :)

There was a pause of about 15 minutes. I opened up the next text message, which simply read:

LCE: Can I bring my parents?

At this point, I actually did laugh out loud.

Me: My mother just said to my father "You want a banana, big boy?" Shudder.

LCE: What did your father say?

Me: He simply turned down his hearing aids and went to his happy place - Deafville.

Another pause of about 15 minutes.

LCE: So you're saying my folks can't come?

Me: Sure they can, the more the merrier. Maybe my mother can offer them a banana too.

And suddenly everything was ok.

What has become absolutely apparent to me is that I might be dating my father. My mother is, for lack of a better term, a bit of a freak. You never have to worry about what my mother is thinking, she just opens her mouth and it all comes tumbling out, a torrent of her wants, needs and desires.

My father, on the other hand, is a "doer". He has told me he loves me just a handful of times in my life. We don't have great conversations about the meaning of life. He just does "things" and I apply the Dad Decoder Ring.

For instance. He is here this weekend, helping me with my deck. He is turning 70 this year. The translation of this is: "you are my daughter, I love you, and I am proud that you bought a house all on your own. And I want you to love your house and be happy here"

He'll make sure that my oil is changed. The translation of this: "you are my daughter. I love you. I want you to be safe. I have visions of your engine seizing in the middle of a scary place. So I am going to do everything in my power to protect you."

He once drove for 17 hours straight to help me move from Vancouver to Kamloops. He was in his 60s at the time. Translation: "This city is big and scary, and I think it is eating you alive. I want you to be in a small place, because they are safer. I love you. You are my daughter."

In this day and age where we do a lot of talking about our feelings, maybe a guy that can't talk about his is ok. As long as you get the secret decoder ring and know how to translate.

LCE and I spent almost 70 hours together in 1 week. And in that week, he stroked my hair as I fell asleep. He was offended when I put the water jug onto the dispenser and didn't ask him for help. When I had a sore back, he wordlessly got up, retreived my magic bag, popped it in the microwave and brought it to me for application.

Translation?

So maybe the fact that he didn't respond to my email about my feelings is ok. He still took the time to check in, to see what I was up to, and to make me laugh.