A friend of mine asked if I realize that when I relay conversations with Nick, I make him sound very authoritative.
The truth is, well, the truth is two-fold.
One, it's true that I see him as much more of a grown-up than me.
He's so big, and he has this really deep voice. He has a southern accent, and he often phrases things in a rather proper way. He wears suits on a regular basis. He makes big decisions without hesitating.
This is not to say that being little with a high voice and not wearing suits and sometimes having trouble deciding which cute dress to wear with which platform shoes today make me juvenile. I've always done a good job at work and paid my bills on time. If those are marks of grown-upitude.
But if you had to choose the more adult of the two, I bet you'd pick Nick.
(Pick Nick. Heh heh.)
Furthermore, he has quite formal taste in furniture. Our living room is his old living room, just transplanted, plus a few pieces of Asian art. One of our friends who previously thought the house was creepy and scary walked in and said, "Wow, your house is so grown up!"
Which is exactly what I thought the first time I saw Nick's place.
He's also very very
Plus, he's often the voice of reason when I want to do things like dip my toes in the lobby fish pond. He would never get drunk and stick butter on a stranger's nose. Which, of course, I would never do either. Anymore. Probably.
And like he said, he went to work and I went to Boobquake.
So it's true that I do make him sound like the voice of authority. When I'm talking to others.
When I'm quoting him back to himself, however, it turns out I make him sound like a cross between Colonel Sanders and Santa Clause.