It’ll make a woman of me yet.
There’s a lot about me that’s pretty girly-girl. I like to wear makeup. I love to wear jewelry. I like my fingernails long (even if they aren’t acrylic), and I always keep my toenails painted. I fully expect batting my eyelashes to get me what I want from The Husband, although it hardly ever works.
There are things about me that are decidedly not typical of a woman, or at least what’s typically expected of a woman. As much as I enjoy having painted toenails, I don’t care to get pedicures. They don’t relax me in the slightest. I have had poetry written for me, and unless it rhymed, I so didn’t get it, nor did I appreciate it. When a boyfriend told me he’d selected a song to be “ours,” I had to work hard to keep my eyes from rolling.
So imagine my surprise when all of a sudden, I have the urge to (*gasp*) cuddle with The Husband. I actually can’t believe I was able to type that word — cuddle. Geez, that’s almost as bad as snuggle, and I think I might want to do that too. I long for (I’m wincing as I type this) romance. Maybe not poetry or a song dedication, but something. … Something …
This new woman, I think she must be silenced. I mean, that’s not really fair to him, is it? Six years and out of nowhere sweet nothings (not the PG-13 or R-rated variety) need to be whispered into my ear? What’s next? Will I want flowers? That’s so impractical! They turn brown and die!
Who is this woman, and what did she do with the old me? And will she go away???