I'm Not Dead You Know!

It’s summer, ah summer, the warmth, the long days, the pool, and the sweaty young women in sports bras running on the bike path. Sometimes I’m amazed my husband hasn’t run into a tree. For years I’ve put up with him casting sideways glances at beautiful women, which by they way has made me wonder if God’s really male because if he is, wouldn’t he have put one eye on the side of men’s heads so they didn’t have to strain to be secretive about looking? If your celestial sex partner is like mine, he can’t help himself and after a decade plus of marriage, I’ve given up trying to change him. Instead, I changed myself.

Just the other day we were driving to the library and a pair of male bicyclists were in front of us. Let me just say that black spandex and a helmet aren’t such a bad combo, especially when they’re on top of two muscular pedal sticks. “What’re you looking at?” he asked in a teasing tone, my eyes were on the spandex, bobbing up and down with every pedal push. “I’m not dead you know,” was my terse reply.

And there it was, if summer brought out an abundance of eye candy, then we’d both have rotten teeth by the end of it. Plus I’ve got to admit, it’s ratcheted up the sexual tension in our relationship and given me new insight into what he finds attractive. Who knows, I might even buy some spandex shorts to pull out if he presents lingerie on our next anniversary. The only thing killing our new foreplay is the gangly guy with the body hair of a sweaty llama who insists on running in nothing more than tight running shorts and tube socks every morning- talk about a cold shower.