When I was in junior high (1977-1979), the hot girls at my school all dated grown men, some of whom were in their thirties. These “boyfiends” had the cars, the cash, and the apartments we schoolboys lacked. Most of these girls’ parents didn’t know, or pretended not to know, but we boys all knew. The Boyfriend is the one in the new car who pulls up in front of the school when the last bell rings to pick up Honey Pie.
We used to gnash our teeth in jealousy, but there was nothing anyone could do. Girls are just like that.
He drove to our house to pick her up for a date.
Now, my Dad was 6’4” and a muscular man. My Mom was 5’2” and a looker. However, our dog was born wild, half German Shepherd and half rocket. Lucky was able to jump 6 foot fences carrying a 40-lb log in her jaws and could hit 40 miles an hour and speed up to catch up with the car. She could have made Mike Vick’s pit bulls cry for Mommy.
Now, imagine, Unsuitable Boyfriend hocking on horn. Sister doesn’t come out. UB then drives into driveway. Lucky positions herself between his car and the front door. UB starts to step out of the car. Lucky drives him back inside his pimpmobile and stays there, implying with posture and growling that if UB steps out of the car one more time, his dating problems would be over forever.
UB drives off. Lucky goes inside the house and gets belly rub from Dad.
Oh, how I miss that dog... she was one of the two sweetest pets I have ever had. The other one was a half-Siamese black cat we called Captain Midnight, who was the smartest cat I ever knew.