Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson

Watching a movie or televison show where the dialog is spot-on completely inspires me. I have such respect for a writer who just nails the cadence of conversation between two people. Friday Night Lights is one of my all-time favorite examples. I can say with all seriousness that I strive for the Mr. and I to interact like Eric and Tammy. Not sure if he's on board entirely, but the new season should be starting soon. We'll see how that goes.

The Blind Side was packed with priceless dialog, but one of my most favorite moments was between Leigh Anne and Sean Tuohy, played by Sandra Bullock and Tim McGraw. Let me set the scene: They're in their foyer greeting Nick Saban from Louisiana State who has come to the house to talk with the Tuohy's adopted son about playing football for LSU. As Saban walks into the den, Leigh Anne and Sean remain standing in the foyer. The exchange between them goes something like this:

LEIGH ANNE (with emphasis): I find him VERY attractive.
SEAN: Yea, I'm standing right here, Leigh Anne.
LEIGH ANNE : Mm-hmm. I know.

How could you not bust out laughing at such a candid moment between a husband and a wife? What makes it so perfect is that there is no doubt throughout the movie how in love those two characters are, and yet the reality is, we ALL notice the opposite sex. If an attractive man or woman crosses your path, you take in the scenery. And that's a fact. Whether you're single or married. Same, same.

Over New Year's, the Mr. and I went skiing in Tahoe with two of our best friends (we'll call them Betty and Barney for the sake of privacy) and their 5-year-old son. (Let's call him Bam-Bam.) While my fancy new ski outfit had me looking like a pro, it's pretty safe to say that if there was a level below beginner shredder, that's where I'd be. Betty was right next to me on the skill scale, so we signed up for a beginner group lesson. I'll be honest here, for a few minutes I daydreamed about having a really hot ski instructor that would make our lesson oh-so-much-more fun. C'mon, I know I'm not alone here on that one.

Alas, we had weather-beaten Clay. A 55-ish man who smoked way too much weed in his day and really wasn't all that interested in being an instructor. Especially not for a bunch of green horns. Without getting into specifics, the lesson was completely useless from an instruction standpoint, but it did boost our confidence, which really is the hardest skill to hone. After our pseudo-lesson, we met up with the rest of our crew for lunch. While I contemplated going up the big-kid lift for some "real" runs with the Mr. (now THAT'S a FUN story for another post), Barney said he was thinking about giving his 1 o'clock private lesson to Bam-Bam.

And so, after our burgers and beers, Barney lumbered (and I do mean lumber... in the most loving way), up to the little red house where all the instructors hang out waiting for their pupils to congregate. Betty and I snapped back into our bindings and started to... what... ski to the bunny hill? That doesn't seem like an accurate description, especially since an ant could move faster than the two of us on flat, slick ground wearing two sticks on our feet. We shuffled. Slowly. That's a better visual.

As I continued to concentrate on speeding up my shuffling to catch up with the Mr., I see Barney heading back towards us. I look over at Bam-Bam who is in the middle of a full-blown meltdown and think, yea... that ski lesson is so not happening. And then...

Helloooo, Peter.

Gliding up next to Barney, Peter makes a beeline for Bam-Bam and before any of us know what's happened, he's got Bam-Bam holding on to a ski pole and skiing over to the bunny hill. Without missing a beat, Betty and I start to shuffle with exaggerated urgency. "Maybe Bam-Bam needs us to take the lesson with him... Peter's hot!" To which my Mr. says in his deadpan way with perfect timing, "Yea, I'm standing right here." Gotta love it when the Mr. pulls out the perfect movie quote.

Here's the deal: Peter was flat-out dreamy. For the next hour, we watched Peter and Bam-Bam go up and down the bunny hill. Okay, okay. We mostly watched Peter, but how could we not? Peter was exactly the kind of guy Betty and I would have been all over in college. We even joked about what we'd do "back in the day" if he walked into a party.

Did dreamy Peter know he had an affect on the ladies? Absolutely. Especially the ladies who fall in the cougar category, which I'm now convinced includes married women of a certain age and not just singles. In contrast to ski-instructor Clay's solid footing in middle age, Peter looked like he barely had a toe in the over-21 camp.

Which brings me to the revelation: It's a hard, cold reality when you realize you've officially entered into Mrs. Robinson territory. As much as I love where I am in life right now, I couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for days gone by. They just went so fast. And looking back, I'm not sure if I took it all in as I should have when I could have. But, I guess that's the whole point. 20/20 vision comes later.

As we drove back from Tahoe, I began to think about Mrs. Robinson and how old she really was. So, I Googled. Yea, that's not always a good idea. Did you know that Anne Bancroft was only 36 when she played that iconic role? It's true. When I saw The Graduate, Mrs. Robinson seemed so... well... old. And to my 20-something self, she was. But to my 38-year-old self, not so much. I'll give her a little wiggle room here and say that maybe she was supposed to be 45 in the film, but even still, Mrs. Robinson is now a contemporary of mine vs. my parents.

Once I got beyond my intial holy-crap-I'm-getting-old panic moment (must start Botox, must take Pilates to firm up ass, must make new playlist that does NOT include any songs from the 80s), I started to think about what being a Mrs. Robinson meant to me (minus the whole cheating on my husband part, of course!). And I realized that I'd much rather be a confident, sexy, experienced woman who can still shake it with the best of them, than a 21-year-old, baby-faced girl who still has so much to learn.

Coo, coo, ca-choo.