Hubby's an Equal Half

My Hubby is a tall, fair skinned, blue-eyed, "balding" (or rather bald with a little peach fuzz) man, and for the past few years he has sported a slightly bulgeoning belly. I've never minded this before because it's more of him to love... it also helps me with my self esteem knowing he's not perfect either. He's almost 6'3 so when I hug him it's comfortable for my face to be buried in a pudgy pillow then up against rock-hard abs. (Yeah, right... or so I've convinced myself.)

I think I can speak for most women who openly admire the looks of such men as Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Wentworth Miller, etc... but I would not want to be married to one of these guys. Nice to gaze at over coffee in the morning, sure! But what would they have to look at in return? My frizz-ball of a hairdo, my sleep-swollen eyes, and my morning breath (which has been known to defrost a chicken in an under a minute). I wouldn't be able to keep up with these men! It's too much pressure for a "normal" chick like myself. I need to be able to burp under my breath, cough up my morning phlem, hang my bras around the bathroom to dry, and not give a hoot if my toenail polish is half chipped off.

I've always felt confident knowing that I have the love and devotion of a man who is more my type. Chicken legs and skinny feet... Sun tanned arms with a chest so white that when his t-shirt is off you can't tell if his undershirt is still on. Calloused fingers and muscular shoulders... stubbled face. The every-man! Not the type that requires beauty-pageant elegance on a regular basis! Good grief, to think about the daily rituals and headaches that Jennifer Lopez or Katie Holmes must go through! Thank goodness I've been spared from that life! Whew!