My “Vintage” Husband

Yesterday was my husband’s 56th birthday and he is definitely vintage, not for the number of years he has lived, but because he is–like a fine wine–the best produced in his year.

He is–I think–a hot stud and he would look a decade younger if his hair weren’t almost white. Nevertheless, the ladies like it and are hitting on him more than ever. But, I am not worried, and here is why.

A couple of months ago, he was at a medical center getting his annual nuclear stress test for his heart, and while he waited, he chit-chatted with an older lady who he estimated was over 75. He is the kind of person who talks to anybody; therefore he make friends wherever he goes.

The nurse called my husband’s name, so he got up and walked with her to the imaging room. However, before stepping into the room, another nurse told him to turn and look behind him. The old lady was walking fast toward him, holding something in his hand.

“Before you go, I want to give you this so you can call me,” she said as she handed him a piece of paper. He read it, smiled politely, and ran inside the test room as if he were chased by a ghost.

When he came home he told me the story and showed me the evidence of his admirer. I couldn’t stop laughing when I saw the coquettish handwriting of her name “Susie” and her phone number. She is lucky I wasn’t there, because senior or not, she would have ended up in the ER.

After the episode with Susie, my husband laughed at himself and joked, “If our business goes down Honey, I can always start dancing at geriatric homes. I’ll be a hit!”

Italians have a je-ne-se-quoi charm that is ageless. Even my late Mother-in-law, at 84, had beautiful skin and a lovely spirit. I’m convinced they get those superb genes from the olives, because they sure eat them like candy!

So, trying to keep up with his admirers, my husband has been working out recently during lunch at the YMCA near our office. This way when he gets home at night, he can spend more time with us.

According to him, this gym at lunch is a catwalk for old retirees who go there to socialize more than to work out. Some of them barely break a sweat. So, from their perspective, I can see why they are eyeing my hubby.

They see a strong “white-haired” male, hitting the weights and motoring the cardio equipment with his iPod ear plugs listening to Latin music–what can I say? Now, if you compare him with the folks who can only walk on the treadmill at 2.5 speed or go to the sauna just to relax, he is by far, the hottest dish in the building.

However, as much as they look at him, none of these ladies has ever been as forward as Susie. I got to tell you, she was definitely at a different level. She probably was one of the founders of the Women’s Liberation Movement or a rock band groupie in her spring chicken years!

My husband is a humble man and doesn’t take compliments well, so I know for a fact that Susie embarrassed him. I don’t even know if he believes me when I tell him how handsome he looks, or when I tell him that I caught a woman looking at him at the store. All I know is that he rings all my bells today the same way he did when I first met him 10 years ago.

If there is anything I have learned from him and our life path together, is that age is a mental condition. We might be many years apart, but our souls were born at the same time. We just had to jump a few more hurdles to find each other. I love my Baby, and wish him many more birthdays by my side.

Nonetheless, I am going to start dropping by his gym every so often to mark my territory, scratch the floor with my feet, and keep the AARP hyenas away.

Thanks for reading and sharing.

Xiomara Spadafora

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