Last night, my high school sweetheart and husband of 32 years, asked me if I was up for a "Date Night." It had been an exhausting day, but I mustered a marginally enthusiastic, "Sure! But, let's have a stay-at-home date night. Won't that be fun? The kids all have plans, so it'll be just the two of us!" Within minutes, we were dressed and headed out to a restaurant. Apparently, I couldn't sell him on my proposed 'evening in,' dining on Lean Cuisines and Skinny Girl Moscato.
Not long after, we were nestled into a secluded booth, in the bar of a popular restaurant not far from our home. The place was veritably humming with the vibe from a crowd of our area's Beautiful People at every age and stage of life.
Once we were comfortably seated, my perspective on the evening started to shift. It'll be entertaining to relax with a cocktail, catch up on one another and engage in some frivolous "people watching," one on my favorite pastimes. I was actually glad we had decided to go out, after all.
When our drinks arrived at the table, we tipped our glasses to one another, took a big long sip and let the troubles of the day melt away...
Gazing out on the crowd and seemingly apropos to nothing, my husband mused, "I'll probably die before you, but if for some reason you die first, I don't think I'll go too young on my second wife. I'd probably consider a woman in her late 40s, but I find women in their 50s equally attractive!"
Isn't it invigorating to realize that, after over 30+ years of marriage, your mate can still stun you speechless?
Perhaps because the bar was dark and my face was illuminated solely by a small candle on our table, he couldn't see my astonishment. So, he continued on, animatedly describing my ideal replacement...
"She will, of course, have to be intelligent, amorous and energetic. It would be a plus if she were a bit of a Susie-Homemaker type too!"
A little about Me (Wife # 1):
-- I'm 52, which is the new 40, by the way.
-- I exercise daily.
-- I wear my seatbelt regularly.
-- I don't drink in excess.
-- I don't smoke at all.
In short, I really hadn't planned on dying anytime soon.
But now, squirming in this dimly lit neighborhood bar, sipping my $15 martini, the desire to stay fit and healthy has taken on a whole new meaning. It seems my WIDOWER-TO-BE has great expectations, and has even tweaked out some pretty lofty requirements for his second wife. What's even more disconcerting, is that I think I'm actually feeling jealous of his post-mortem back-up wife.
Let's re-cap the REQs for wife #2:
This saucy little number in her late 40s or 50s, with above-average intelligence, is up for big fun in the boudoir, just as soon as she pulls her cupcakes out of the oven and scrubs one more potty!
Perhaps I should be ashamed to admit this, but I woke up this morning with a brand new lease on life. My will to live is stronger than ever, and it wasn't even weak to begin with. I jogged around the block a few times, did 20 pushups, 50 jumping Jacks, scheduled an overdue mammogram, a colonoscopy and a heart scan. Then I ducked into my local grocers for some vitamins, orange juice and and a can of SPF 80 sunblock.
I'm definitely "in-it-to-win-it" now. I'm not taking any chances. My SUCCESSOR sounds positively "TO DIE FOR!"
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