Trophy Husband discussion

“Hey, what are the colors of the rainbow? That ROYGBIV thing?”

The words that come out of his mouth are a gigantic buzzkill. So I put his clothes back on. The jeans come up, now they’re zipping, the button is going back in its button hole, the shirt comes back down over his oh-so-wonderfully sculpted abs – I feel a momentary pang as I say goodbye to them – and then I mentally tuck his shirt back in.

He’s not Chris. He’s not even close. I can’t even undress this guy in my imagination. Call me crazy, but I want the complete package. Brains, humor, looks, hands and tongue and lips that turn me inside out, and most of all, a kind heart.

“Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.”