The Other Woman

There is another women in my husband’s life… me. I have come to the conclusion that I am the “other woman” in my husband’s life.

A drastic observation? Yes. A detrimental one? Not necessarily. It all depends on perspective. I am accused of being an eternal optimist, and I can’t deny it. I find it is much less stressful to believe in the positive than to dwell on the negative, so it follows that I am not distressed at being my husband’s “other woman.”

She has become his obsession, even during the cold winter months. She can’t keep him warm, (unless he travels to warmer climes) but thoughts of her warm the cockles of his heart. He shows me his favorite pin-ups, but hasn’t yet resorted to plastering them on every available wall space. But we do have enough magazines and books about his lady-love to fill a library. After seeing all her pictures, I am fully convinced that size does matter!

He lovingly shows me everything he has that will attract his lady – bright or subtle colors, arousing scents, flashing skirts – and has sent me on desperate searches in many states for that special “something” to lure her to his side. She’s as fickle as can be – one day she’s tempted by gold, the next day silver, another day by fragrant perfume. And let’s not forget the days when only the tastiest cuisine will make her look his way.

But while he tries his best to get her to come to him, the truth is – he is very much the pursuer – with my blessing. I willingly assist him in his quest. For while he is searching, I know where he is, who he is with, and most of the time, when he will be home. I’ve traveled through several states, helping him on his seasonal quest, and listened during the winter as he plots and plans his actions for the next summer.

Yes, there is another lady. But believe me, there is no competition – the love of my husband’s life is green and has scales – she’s a bass…

-Linda Morton

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