Don Fob de las calzas verdes

Well, I guess he has medias verdes, not calzas, but I still think he's pretty sexy. Mr. Fob's education this school year is being paid for by a "foreign language and area studies grant", which means that he gets to take Spanish and European Studies classes along with his library ones. Last quarter he took a class on Golden Age drama, and now this quarter he's in a continuation class that will be presenting three short plays in Spanish next weekend. While on the one hand I've been a little stressed about the whole deal because I have to get babysitting next week while he practices every night, I think it's pretty cool that he's going to be in a play. Actually, two plays. For those of you who know what I'm talking about, he's Chanfalla in El retablo de las maravillas and then he gets to portray "El Occidente" in a loa by Sor Juana (I think it's El divino narciso).

Last night when I came home he was in the process of making an oversized scroll to go along with his costume for the first play. And I was reminded once again about how much I love his creativity and artistic impulses. I always dreamed about marrying someone who played a musical instrument or who sang well; unfortunately Mr. Fob has not been blessed with those talents. But I've gotten over it because he sure looks cute in green tights.

Comments

M said…
HOORAY for theater! And indeed, the tights are lovely.
Tina said…
I think it should be against blog policy to mention green tights without posting a picture.
Tina said…
This comment has been removed by the author.
Mrs. Hass-Bark said…
My Golden Age theater class was probably my favorite class at BYU. I loved everything about producing our plays. So fun. Break a leg, Master Fob!
Vanessa Swenson said…
your blog entry title made me laugh right out loud. ¡viva el siglo de oro! congrats to Don Fob. Hope you have fun at the play and that he quebra una pierna.
So you're saying I don't sing well? Harumph.
Oh, you have to be in love to think a guy is cute in tights. I loved a wrestler once . . .

I'm okay without a picture. Really.

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