As I was perusing my Facebook news feed tonight, I came across a picture of an ex-boyfriend’s son. ((It’s pretty sad that I could tell what building this kid was in by just seeing the walls. Something things never change in a small town in the middle of a cornfield.)) I clicked through the few pictures and I saw him.
Back in the day, he was a football player (#85), rocking a rockhard body. I spent most of Summer 1997 making out with him, come to think of it, until he broke up with me before Homecoming to go with my friend. The man in this picture was none of that. His once washboard abs have now been replaced by a small keg. Or possibly a second trimester pregnancy.
What happened? He got a desk job, married, and had 4 kids. We’ve remained acquaintances over the years – every so often we’ll get into a peacocking argument in Facebook chat about who has the better job/life (“I’m going to retire with $1 million in the bank in 5 years” v. “I don’t wake up to an alarm clock.”) It’s not in jest, either. Oh, and I’m the alarm clock one. I know you’re jealous.
I know things change as we age, but wow, was not expecting to see that.