It’s true. He knows it. I’ve made no secret of it. My heart belongs to another. I can’t help myself. Please, dear friends, please don’t judge me. If you saw him, if you met him, you wouldn’t blame me. No one can hold a candle to this guy.
He’s fair-haired and sports quite the mullet.
He’s got a smile that would knock you over on a sunny day.
He’s got the cutest little butt you’ve ever seen.
He flirts with me till my heart goes pitter-pat.
He loves to put his hands down his pants when he’s bored, and he drools incessantly.
He’s the 1-year-old son of a friend of mine. His name is… and I love this….Lane. Talk about a romance novel hero name. Lane. ahhhhhhhhh ***Sigh***
And in 17 years, we’re getting married. I’ve got it all worked out. Sure, I’ll be in my 60’s, but he doesn’t seem to mind when we talk about it. Well, when I talk about it and then he drools and toddles away.
My Captain has been taking this all pretty well, considering.
But tonight….tonight I was dealt a swift and painful blow. I learned the hard way that Lane is not true to me. I found a valentine to him from a 1st grader who is shamelessly trying to steal him away from me. I told her he was taken, and she just smirked…smirked at me! Like I was no competition. And she assured me she wasn’t the only one.
I was crushed.
And in a shocking display of insensitivity, My Captain chuckled and shot at me, “Have you ever heard of a guy trading in a forty-year-old for two twenty-year-olds? Well, Lane just traded in a fourty-four for seven six-year-olds and a toddler on the side.”