Side Eyeing the Cradle

So I haven't blogged in a while, and I apologize. But for the first time ever, I have a boyfriend!

At least, I think I have a boyfriend.

He told his friends he had a girlfriend. He told me he loved me via text. (And yes, this was the actual declaration of love. On the text. Insert side eye). His friend told me he loved me before the boyfriend did.

The problem is my new boyfriend is younger than me. He's way younger than me but he's not illegal. He's slightly over legal. If you had told me a few years ago I'd be dating someone who wasn't alive when Thriller, the Challenger Explosion, Purple Rain and Facts of Life came out, I'd have given you the side eye.


This is me, side-eyeing you. You are Hilary Clinton. Yes, you


But alas, my supposed boyfriend is muy younger and this should be my fun fling of the summer, but it is turning into a bit more trouble than it's worth. While he is fun and there is the whole "Young men just don't quit in the sack" nonsense, and "Young men are trainable" bs, there are maturity issues of a whole other realm that I just need to blog about!

Like the time he came over and literally peed himself as he walked into my house because he drank way too much beer and couldn't get into the bathroom on time.

Side eye!

And the times he says he's coming over, like last night, doesn't show up, like last night, but will show up the next day.

Side Eye, with bonus side mouth! (Note - don't leave stuff at my house if you pull this kind of move, Young boyfriend. I will look through your bag like the nosy bitch I am!)

I shouldn't feel so strongly about a fling, but dagnabbit, can't it be fun without all the silliness? Am I just getting old and crotchety about someone who is 1.)leaving in three months to go back to their home country and 2.) young enough that old school hip hop to them is LL Cool J's last album? (ok, totally kidding on that, but since when is Wu Tang old school?!?!) I shouldn't care! But...I do.

Side eyeing myself. Serious side eye.

I think I'm through with younger men after this. I miss having a man with hair. When you have more facial hair than your mate, something is amiss. Maybe Puberty, but something!

PS - I asked him if he really meant that he loved me in that text, and when he said yes, I exclaimed, "that's nice!" Because no matter what, it's always nice to hear someone loves you.

PPS - I'm going to tell myself I love you right now.