Today, at work, one single female friend remarked to another single female co-worker, "There's a real Hottie"! (Cute Guy) I was standing within earshot, and I looked up with a quizzical look on my face. Mary asked me, "Did you see the Hottie?" I still registered a blank face, so she repeated herself. Finally, I asked, "What hottie?" As soon as the word passed my lips, the meaning of the word dawned on me, and I laughed out loud. "Oh Mary," I quipped, "I'm immune to hotties. I never notice them." I joked about having my head in my paperwork, and how focused I stay on my work. Then, I said, "I think my husband is a real "hottie" so I never have to look at any other guys."
They both made comments about how nice it was that I had that kind of a relationship with my husband, but one of them wryly commented that I still had eyes that could be used. I think they found it rather hard to believe that I wouldn't even notice if a cute guy walked by.
I'd rather have a boring Monday at work, and miss all the cute guys walking by, because I know I have a "hottie" to come home to. How sad I was for the husbands on the Dr. Phil show tonight, whose wives were out partying, doing drugs, and flashing private parts. Those marriages are headed for a train-wreck!
Dear DH (Dear "Hottie"),
Like the words of the song sung by the famous crooner, Frank Sinatra, "I only have eyes for you."