Boys

I like 'em. Always have. Grew up with them, played with them in the neighborhood, lived with them. The only time I've lived with a woman other than my mother was when I was forced to by my parents when they put me in an all-girls dorm at the University. (Maybe they knew I liked boys.)

But it wasn't all bad. My freshman-year roommate ended up as my Maid of Honor in my wedding three short years later. But my relationships with women have never been enduring as evidenced by the fact I've had not contact with any of my bridesmaids ever since "I do."

Men are easy. Their wiring is not complicated. But what really intrigues me is that I like to compete with them. I'm not sure why this is. I remember playing touch football with the neighborhood boys on the church lawn next to the house where I grew up, Red Rover, climbing trees. I played Barbie with one of the neighbor girls but the girls on my block were older. The boys were closer to my age and the games they played were way more fun.

From then on, all I wanted to do was to compete with boys and, more importantly, win.

When I was in Junior High, I went to a summer camp where they had a swimming race on Fridays. Girls didn't compete even though there was nothing to say they couldn't. That's just what gets me going. I joined the race wearing a bikini that was handed down to me from the same neighbor I used to play Barbie's with. But that didn't make me look like a serious competitor. The other kids laughed. I was obviously the new kids who didn't know the ropes.

I won. And then I beat them at diving too.

I remember wanting, briefly, to be a fireman. The only reason was because that was before women were fire fighters.

My stepson wanted motorcycle lessons. I took the classes with him and was the only woman there (not to mention the only adult other than the instructor). I wanted to own a Harley when I turned 40 and I wasn't planning on riding on the back either. (Upon turning 40, however, I discovered that 40 hurt a lot more than I expected. I got a convertible instead. My grandmother drove a convertible which I thought was very cool. But that was before car seats. I won't be able to take my grandson anywhere with the top down until he gets a bit older.)

I got to ride in a race car once, going close to 200 mph on the Daytona International Speedway. That was fun, but I want to drive the car!

We got a RV and I drove it. Alone. On this same trip, I maneuvered it through the Boise Airport arrivals to pick up my husband who flew to meet me there. No scratches (and no arrests).

Now I want to drive the boat. It's not that I haven't before. I've docked it a couple of times and taken it in and out of the slip a few times as well. This is good as many women I know won't even take the controls. But that's not good enough. I want to compete with the men not the women. I don't want to be good, just embarrassingly great. (And humble, too.)

There are a lot of wonderful, talented, beautiful women in my life and I am so privileged to know them. As I get older I get better at my relationships with women. There are many I couldn't live without. They are women who have enriched my life beyond what I could imagine.

I guess that's the beautiful thing about getting older. Getting better.