When it comes to clothing, I dress pretty modestly. It is true that I have tons of goodies, but only one man has the key to my candy shop, we'll say. When I'm in public I err on the side of caution, nothing is hanging out of or squeezed into my clothing. I don't feel frumpy and I don't feel unfeminine. On the contrary I think modesty in public makes me feel even sexier in private with my husband, and it brings him honor when I don't let it all hang out for others in public. I also dress modestly because I wouldn't like it if some tramp walked past my husband, and I don't want to be that tramp for someone else.
But you know, no matter how much effort you put in to respecting other women, their husbands, and their marriages there's always some chick out there ready to jump in where you fell short. You know what I'm talking about...here comes Flossie with her thong hanging out of her hot pants with nothing more than a couple pasties up top. (Well, not literally, but it might as well be...)
Seriously...these girls. I take personal offense.
But I thank my lucky stars that I snagged a good one because while I'm walking past these women with an all out death stare, my husband trots happily along, diverting his eyes to my own so as not to be enchanted Ms. "I think I'm Playmate of the Year."
Seriously...these girls...
But in my dreams at night, that's not always how the story goes. Every now and then I have a dream where John and I are walking down the street or through a store and some floosey comes walking by and John turns his head and starts a conversation with them. They, of course, are flattered and before you know it it's "Hannah who?" The nerve!
I wake up angry every time. Then I realize it's just a dream, roll over and give my guy a big 'ole hug for being so good to me in real life!
Question of the Day:
Do you have bad dreams like this?
Or if this happens in real life do you need to get a gang together to beat on your husband a bit? 'Cause I'm in!
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