Awkward Mom vs. Nerd Love

Dearest Readers, our last post (as in the one with vats of lemonade) was our 100th post! Trust Awkward Mom to not even notice this until editing it for the 8th time (that pesky to or too issue). We should do something special, but, being awkward, we probably won't, so instead, let's read more awkward love posts about Awkward Dad!

PS....you might wanna get your Google ready. She is gonna help you out with some of these, but there are gonna be a ton of nerd references.

Readers, I am married to Foggy Nelson. Go ahead, ladies. Soak him in. You should have seen him in some of the 70s issues, he had a killer mustache and was about 50 pounds heavier. Jealous? I know you are.

Here's the thing. Awkward Dad is not Superman or (don't you dare tell him!) even Spiderman. He isn't fighting Dr. Doom, Dr. Octopus, or any of the other evil Doctors who roam the comics. He isn't brokering peace with alien nations. He did not shot down the Death Star. He doesn't have Quinjets or a secret lair. He doesn't have perfect aim, super strength, telepathy, radioactive whatever, unbreakable skin, or web shooters (organic or otherwise).

He isn't dark and mysterious. He doesn't have Daddy issues or billions of dollars. He wasn't scarred for life when someone killed his parents, favorite uncle, or whole family. Nope, his are mostly still around, being awkward. He doesn't creep out the windows at night to scour the city for evil-doers. He is not a ninja. He is not a blackbelt, a linguist, or a member of Shield. He doesn't do physics calculations or mutate blood streams for fun. He has never (to my knowledge) worn spandex.

In the wild world of comics, he is my Foggy. My Jimmy Olsen. My Bucky (without all that weird Winter Solider stuff). On his crabbier days, he reminds me of J. Jonah Jameson (again with the no telling!), but he is usually as mild-mannered and friendly as Robbie Robertson. Awkward Dad is straight up sidekick, chum, buddy, pal, friend, and sometimes, that kind person who tries to help out the little old lady before Spiderman webs on in and takes it from there. He isn't the lead, he isn't the star of the show. And frankly, thank goodness for that.

Besides the undeniable fact that I am no Lois Lane, Princess Leia, or (as much as I try) Jennifer Walters, I would not want to date a typical superhero. First of all, there is the constant peril issue; how else are they gonna prove they are super villains? Well, attacking the hero's loved ones comes to mind, especially the evil, twisted mind. Sometimes, you get to be Mary Jane and enjoy the whole kissing upside-down in the rain shenanigans, but sometimes you get to be Gwen Stacy or, heaven-forbid, Alexandra DeWitt. Sorry, super dudes, I am no one's fridge woman.

Secondly, there are the hours. Now, I am sympathetic to little ladies being mugged in the park and I understand that "heroing" ain't 9 to 5, but comics leading ladies have been left high and dry more times than Susan Lucci. And I am not just talking about their men missing a dinner or two or popping out the windows every time they hear a scream, Readers. These women deal with interruptions during just about every important event in their lives. Wanna get married? Prepare to have some dude named Thunderbolt show up with a gun or, even better, you could be duped into marrying the wrong guy because Professor Zoom gets a little lonely and decides to do some body-switching. Are you a career woman? Well, don't even think about hosting an event or party because you just know some loony villain is gonna show up and ruin your plans just to get your honey's attention on a random Thursday. Wanna go on a relaxing honeymoon? Take my advice and just don't marry any of the X-men. And I am not even going to discuss the perils of having a baby in the comic world because she is probably gonna turn out to be a clone, a Skrull, or Dr. Doom is gonna send her to the 8th dimension. And that will totally ruin your dinner plans.

These are pretty obvious, dear Readers. You are like; "OK, yeah, sure, but, Awkward Mom, think of Tony Stark's money or Clark Kent's chiseled jaw or Batman's abs. Think of the excitement, the adventure, the vacations to the Savage Land." I have thought about it, Readers, and I tell you this. There is nothing sexier than good old reliable, loyal, kind, patient, faithful Foggy Nelson. Nothing. I am dead serious. Life is too short to mess around, trying to be someone's damsel in distress. Save yourself. Then find someone who saved himself or herself. Then stop by Taco Bell and go to a movie. You will not regret it, I promise you. OK. You might regret the Taco Bell.

Find a man who likes the way the moonlight sparkles on your glasses. Find a man who likes the way that scrunchie brings out your eyes. And for goodness sake, teach your daughters (and sons for that matter!) that Taylor Swift is very talented and quite cute, but don't listen to everything she says. Please don't ever befriend your crush with the intention of waiting around for him to finally notice you in between breakups with his cheerleader girlfriend. Make time for the boy who doesn't notice anything else in the room but you. He is smarter and more likely to have a job when he is 35.

Here is my foggy theory on love: The bad boys aren't worth it and they will probably steal your car. The damaged ones are too much work. The heroes are just dressed up Narcissists with Messiah complexes.  Find yourself a Foggy, my friends, and keep your fridge for late night snacking.

Speaking of fridges, you guys got anything good over there? All we have is some old rice, a couple apples, and something that looks like it was once chicken stew.....Maybe to celebrate our 101 post, someone could bring Awkward Mom some food!

Oh gross, get a room!