(Start with "Monday" if you can. We've been discussing "A Scent of a Woman" all week and the odor hasn't dissipated yet.) So what was I talking about? Oh right. This little item online about men being attracted to women most when they're at their most fertile. And, oh by the way, this rule, according to the tidbit, only applies to single men. Another words, if a woman just a walkin' down the street happens to be at her most fertile time of the month, single men will check her out but married men won't....Hm....Wonder why that is.So the report didn't actually come right out and say that married men are whipped and don't look at women on the street because they're afraid of getting their wife's Coach bag slammed into the back of their head. Though I'm thinking that even if their wife isn't with them, they can feel that bag hovering over their skull. It's implied.
Now what about us old married broads? Is anybody attracted to us when we're at our most fertile? I don't know. I'll be honest, when I was busy getting fertile, it never occurred to me while I was leaning against the bathroom sink to look into the mirror and ask my husband as he was injecting progesterone into my buttock: "Do you think I'm cute?"
I don't know, I was all hormoned up. I should have been attractive to him according to this report. I was at my fertile peak during treatments. Of course I had various fluids being shot into me or leaking out of me most of the time. I suppose that could be a turn-off to some men.
Or maybe it's just what we do to ourselves or stop doing to ourselves after being married a while. I personally, not to brag, am exactly the same as the day my husband first met me. I almost never wear make-up or dress up or polish my nails or iron my clothes, or wash my clothes, or shave my legs, or brush my teeth, or comb my hair, or bathe. So my husband has no expectation that I'll ever look like anything. He doesn't expect me to be gorgeous. I doubt if he expects me to be presentable. And then came...the robe.
Does anyone else have a robe that, if you brought it along on a camping trip, could easily be used as a sleeping bag?
I have one like that. My sister gave it to me. And of course I wear it all the time. And every time I do wear it, my husband looks me up and down out of the corner of his peripheral vision and mumbles under his breath: "I'm gonna kill your sister."
And when I'm at my most fertile- when I'm tired and head achy- is when I rely on my big juicy robe the most. So, I've been rambling all week about this report on the "Scent of a Woman" that claims that like other animals- both in the wild and domesticated- we put off a scent of sorts during "mating season". I now realize my problem. My mating scent is Tide.
Listen, I gotta go. That reminds me: It's time to wash my robe. I'm ready for some serious flirting.
I'll talk with ya again tomorrow.