frazzled & frumpy

He wasn't my dream man.  Not the one I'd stayed up high school nights thinking of.  I had a list, a long one. We'd all made them.  "Qualities I Want in an Eternal Mate"  Of course, mine went way beyond internal qualities like kindness or character and spilled right over into every last detail. He would be tall and dark and handsome.  A love to dance was  a must.  Play an instrument? Bonus.   He would have a college degree and wealth, well, of course he would have that.  Good taste in clothes.  You know, all the very important things. Oh, and he would come into my life like a tidal wave and sweep me off my feet with his romanticism. We met when we were serving missions for our church.  Though our families lived merely two miles apart in Utah, we had to travel to New York to find each other.   He was young and cute.  But, as missionaries are strictly forbidden to date each other or anyone else, we fell into fr...

If I ever doubt that the Handy Man loves me, which I don't but, if I did, I would only need to do one thing to reassure myself.  Look in the mirror first thing in the morning. See, of all my skills, (fingernail-growing skills, giving-birth-to-large-babies skills, making-killer-enchilada skills), one I do not have is the waking-up-pretty skill.  It has something to do with my short hair and how I lay on my pillow.  Seriously, my hair can defy gravity in the a.m.  And you know those lines you get on your face from your pillow? Did you know that when you get to be 45 they don't go away very quickly?  Cruel trick of nature.  Throw my glasses into the mix and it's a scary sight. Still, he kisses me good morning and pretends not to notice how hideous I look.  That's true love, baby. This boy looks good every morning.