It was that happy little month of February that comes once a year when we honor LOVE, Boyfriend, Girlfriend stuff, Husband and Wife stuff etc. etc. etc. and I’ve got some advice for you.
Some of you ladies received roses, chocolates, dinner out and diamonds while others will get a bag of milk duds, the love of your life couldn’t help himself and opened on the way home from the convenience store.
No worries ladies, I’ve been hearing that us silver-haired old foxes are coming back in style. They are calling us Cougar’s these days or so I’ve heard from the gossip down at the general store.
So listen up and whip out your best dress that pair of four-inch high heels you haven’t worn in 50 plus years and enjoy what’s left of the milk duds. He might look at you like you’re daft in the head (men are slower to catch on) but as he pulls out the clicker to channel surf, his mind will wander. It will think things like yikes who’s that decked out doll sitting next to me. He won’t be seeing the woman who cooks the meals, does the laundry and finds his keys where they always are right next to his wallet on top of the dresser. It’s not his fault really after all he wasn’t the one born with ovaries that could follow the tracks of a lost ant across a Forest floor. The one thing he will see is the hot-wife he married all those years ago.
I’ve always been partial to milk dud men myself. They’re the ones that get up before dawn to show up at work on time and bring the paycheck home to the hot-wife they can’t believe married them in the first place. They cut the grass maintain the vehicles, toil and toil some more for the hot-wife and their happy to do it. As they watch their family grow they go to bed at night and silently say,” Thank the Lord and pass the peas for all my blessings.”
He’ll turn off the TV and turn on that old stereo system you started life with all those years ago and hold out his hand and watch you rise in those old spike heels of your youth and as he holds you close and whisper’s hot-wife shall we dance another fifty February’s or so?
No one knows but those who hung in there through good times and bad the growing, the giving and the loving that goes on between a man and a woman over the long years of life together.
Ladies, whether you’re sipping champagne in a five-star restaurant in style on your special day for Lovers or having the milk dud chocolate kissed off your sweet lips by the one you’ve shared your life with, I’m thinking you might want to kick off those high heels and slow dance in your tippy toes. Soooooooooooo, you don’t end up spending your special Day for Lovers whipping out your Medicare card when you fall and break your one good hip.
Pass the Knowledge on!
Very funny, but oh so true.
Arlene what a great story. The dance is words without sound, communication and engagement with out speaking. You have such a sense of enjoyment of life’s simple pleasures.
Good Morning Larry, your comment brings me joy. Life is but a dance and it’s words that make it so.