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My husband grew up mostly in Western Europe, moving every couple of years. He also grew up a Smarty von BrainyPants. I read a lot as a child, but Mr. Zoo definitely kicks my book list to the curb. The first time I hung out with him and a few of his friends, they used the word “apotheosis” as casually in their conversation as I would use the world “like.” I had to look up the definition when I got home.
This is not the trauma. The trauma is that he not only missed out on a big portion of American pop culture from when we were kids, but also typical American kid movies, in my humble and low-brow American opinion. Especially Disney movies, like Dumbo, Bambi, the Fox & the Hound… But also any and all crappy teen movies that came out in the 80s. He’s never seen Say Anything. I mean, really. How do you properly learn how to woo a girl if you’ve never experienced the brilliance of Lloyd Dobler holding that stereo over his head outside Diane Cort’s house?!
And even though we’ve been together over 6 years, I am still surprised by this fact. That he didn’t know what the hell I was talking about when I commented after an exhausting and stressful day at work: “Calgon, take me away!” astounded me.
The most recent reminder of the disservice his parents did him growing up was this conversation:
Zoo, while flipping around the TV looking for something to watch and ending up on a crappy movie on ABC Family: “Ugh. Did you know they made some stupid remake of ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’ called ‘Love Don’t Cost a Thing’?”
Mr. Zoo (imagine the blank stare here): “What’s ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’?”
Zoo: Oy.
