Before I was betrothed to my handsome husband, I used to look for a certain “something” in potential suitors: a nice smile, kind eyes, and for whatever reason, I’ve always loved a man in a watch. What? It’s my fantasy.
Never in a million years has a man rocking a wedding band, totting two kids down the cereal aisle caught my eye. Okay, maybe that whole scene grabbed my attention if only because Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!! I bet he wishes he were golfing! But it’s not like I was weak in the knees or whatever.
Now, a baby-wearing Daddy in the park with some perfectly fitted jeans, sandals, and shiny Rolex? Maybe.
Aaaaanyway, there are women who seriously follow my husband around like a bloodhound when he is alone with our kids. He comes home and regales me with tales of “the time that lady almost trampled her friend to pick up my car keys.” Damn. I don’t know if passers-by think he needs help because “men can’t parent,” or if, like a re-run of Friends, he is an unavoidable temptation. Whatever the case, I’m ranting about it over Aiming Low today. Come, read, comment won’t you?! Click the fancy pants graphic below to be magically transported. I’m all about saving fuel.