frazzled & frumpy

Once Upon a Time... I was young,  and thin, and cute.  (I even wore heels.) And then I met  the Handy Man. He dazzled me with his handy-ness. He thought I was cute.  The feeling was mutual. So, we got married. And, then.. We had a baby. A bunch of them. And, now,  I look like this. frazzled and frumpy. The Handy Man? Looks like this. But, he still thinks I'm cute. And, the feeling is still mutual.

I'm a hopeful romantic. In high school, I read every romance novel I could get my hands on. I daydreamed about my dream man- tall, dark, handsome.  He'd be a college grad, professional, and wealthy.  I dreamed of curved staircases, fancy dresses, roses, dancing, maybe he would even have an accent. If you've met the Handy Man, you'll know, he meets very few of those requirements. He is tall and handsome, and he does have an accent, if you count Utah-ese. Romantic? Mmmm, not so much.  But, that didn't stop him from sweeping me off my feet. We started dating in July, and soon were seeing each other every day.   We were in love.  After a while, we talked about our future together, as though marriage was a given.  But, the words hadn't been spoken, the question not asked.  I decided I needed to take things into my own hands.  He needed some encouragement, some inspiration. One hot August night, we'd been up very late watching a movie. We both ...