I’ll admit – it isn’t easy being married to a curly-haired boy. In the words of one redheaded girl, “Everybody hates people with naturally curly hair”.If I was the redheaded girl, I would have rephrased it. I would have said, “Everybody hates the girl who’s married to the boy with the naturally curly hair”.
I don’t know what it is, but curly hair causes insanity in women. The moment they see ringlets they lose their minds. I know this from experience.
I also know this from observation.
Every time I go out with my boy I have to flash my wedding band at women. I hope they’ll pick up on small social cues like the fact that my husband is making out with me.
Yesterday even those small social cues failed. It was my own fault. I let my guard down.
McDonald’s felt like a safe place. The woman was pushing a walker. I was pretty sure she was the type of lady I’d like to adopt as a great-grandmother.
Until she started hitting on my husband.
“You don’t like him any, do you?” she asked – as if she really wanted to know. (Who were the police going to believe in this cat fight? Something tells me they’d side with the woman with the walker.)
I had no choice but to let her continue. When she finally finished her string of come-ons, she patted me on the butt and walked away.
Yes, me. On the butt. Miss Personal-Space. Miss Don’t-Touch-Me-Unless-You’re-My-Husband. Or should I say Mrs. Married-To-The-Guy-You-Just-Hit-On?
Come to think of it, maybe I have something to be grateful for: She did not pat him on the butt.
Good thing for her, or I would have had use my superpowers to overcome the dark, dark evil.
Walker or no walker – you shouldn’t mess with the Lord of the Ringlets.
