It all started when I ran across that AM Gold ballad from the 70’s called Wildflower, by Skylark (the band, not the Buick). It’s one of those songs you’ll swear you’ve never heard until it starts playing. Then you’ll find yourself singing “let her cryyyyyyyyyyyyy, for she’s a ladyyyyyyyyyyyyy.” The song itself is beautiful, but one I’m almost embarrassed to admit I like. It’s almost too cheesy, but just so heartfelt and emotional, as if the singer treasured his subject, flaws and all, beyond everyday understanding.
I found myself particularly captivated by the chorus lyrics, “she’s a free and gentle flower growing wild.” I wondered what kind of man speaks of a woman in these terms; a sensitive, romantic, poetic one, who sees far beneath the surface.
For the first time ever, blame it on pangs of nostalgia or a recent bout with stomach flu, I wanted to hear myself described in these terms of such lovely imagery. Feeling dreamily affectionate, like Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday or Mrs. Roper in Three’s Company, I pranced into the bedroom to awaken my slumbering Prince Charming a.k.a. husband James.
Okay, first-of-all, never expect Prince Charming to wax poetic upon being awoken from productive mid-REM sleep. Secondly, if your man isn’t prone to comparing your hair to honey and your eyes to sapphires, chances are he won’t wake up having been reincarnated into Frank Sinatra just because you’re feeling romantic.
ME: (sliding under the covers next to him) “James, am I a free and gentle flower growing wild?”
JAMES: “Huh? (mumbling) Yeah, I took out the garbage.”
ME: “No, Honey, I said ‘am I a free and gentle flower growing wild?'”
JAMES: (slightly more conscious) “This is EARTH. You’re what’s called a WOMAN here. Now, Good Night!”
ME: “Honey, what about metaphorically speaking? Am I a free and gentle flower growing wild?”
JAMES: “Sure. Yes. You’re ……whatever you said….”
ME: (expectantly) “A free and gentle flower growing wild?”
JAMES: “Yeah. Metaphorically speaking, you’re also a raccoon.”
ME: “A raccoon? So now I’m a nocturnal scavenger?”
JAMES: “That’s exactly what you are. It’s past midnight and you’re keeping me awake. Turn off the light and go to sleep, you nocturnal pest….and free and gentle flowery detergent for sensitive skin, or…something…whatever…. G’night.”
ME: “Sweet dreams, Honey. Thanks for taking out the garbage. By the way, what kind of flower do you think I’d be? A daisy…a red poppy…a…”
JAMES: “ANGELA! GO-TO-SLEEP-OR-GET-OUT!!!!!”
I guess the lyrical Prince Charming will have to stay locked away in iTunes-land.
Filed Under: Real Life Stories
About the Author: Angela is an award winning humor columnist, freelance writer and public speaker living in Middle Georgia, and the San Francisco Bay Area. She uses her keen insight and clever wit to help husbands understand the complex mechanisms that are their wives. “I like to think of goodhusbanding.com as an owner’s manual for the average wife. Of course results may vary, but we’re all fairly similar whether we admit it or not.” Angela uses her background in psychology, the myriad of learning experiences offered through her ten year marriage, and input from her “in the trenches” audience members across the country as input for her articles.