When Alpha Males Meet

 Last week a study was published in a Canadian newspaper that concluded women who married younger men died earlier than anticipated. (My thought is, then don't get married; just enjoy the moments together -- duh!)

I loved reading the response to this study on The Real Cougar Women blog at: http://www.therealcougarwoman.com/2010/05/young-men-can-kill-ya.html.  The blogger of The Real Cougar Women, Linda Franklin, essentially says "bullcrap" to this theory.

All I know is, since I've been with Sweet Cub (13 years), I've been healthy, and happy. (Maybe it's because we're not married and continue to have separate living arrangements.) Except for a few disasters based on our age difference, we've never had anyone take exception to our relationship -- and we've maintained a healthy balance of friendship among peers so that he can watch TV with other Cubs while I go off to a museum or theater with my gorgeous over-40/50/60 women friends.

Getting back to disasters, the biggest one was the first time Sweet Cub met Son. Since there's less than a decade in years between them I figured I might encounter some snarling and sniffing when these Alpha Males met.

WHY IS IT THAT...
...sons, especially, think their divorced moms (or, for that matter, moms still married to the same old guy who sired sons) should head to a nunnery after 40, rather than dabble in romance?

When I suggested breakfast so that Son and Cub could meet one another, both grudgingly agreed. Son mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, "I'd be happier if you said you were introducing me to your Lesbian friend," and Sweet Cub said, not so sweetly, "Let's make it a quickie at McDonald's."

I could already sense this would go quite well.

On a sultry morning in late August, 1997, at a Big Boy (Hah! The irony.) Restaurant the three of us met for breakfast. There was a lot of positioning and posturing. Little was said. They glared at one another and snarled comments when asked to pass the butter or discuss world events. This continued for about 45 minutes. Despite the air-conditioning that kept the butter at refrigerated temperature, my menopausal self was sweating through a white t-shirt. The sweat was freezing on my skin and I had goosebumps the size of the egg yolks on my plate. I wondered if we would all survive this debacle when Son said, "Hey, nice to meet you, gotta' go." Relief. On the way home, Sweet Cub said, "I think that went pretty well, don't you?"

The breakfast meeting was never mentioned again. Fortunately, Son lives a couple hours away, and both men in my life only see one another about three or four times a year. They sort of have a kind of male conversation now. But they're still wary and territorial around one another. I don't think they'll ever really be close buds.

To all my Cougar friends and friends of Cougars, let's realize one thing: our adult children will never understand or care to discuss the lives of Mom Cougars.

With love to all,
Marilyn