June 30, 2011
Jared says I'm a cougar. I can't decide whether or not I agree with him on this very serious and alarming accusation. Please allow me to set the scene...
Two Sundays ago, Jared and I were sitting in church. More specifically, we were sitting behind three Mormon missionaries. Two are assigned to our congregation, and one was visiting our branch on some very important and official missionary business--possibly enforcing the short haircut protocol.
The visitor had been at our house the night before, picking up dinner, and what can I say? The kid caught my eye. Twenty-one years old, a strapping young man who likes to compete in rodeos.
Be still my soul.
On Sunday morning we slipped into church a few minutes late. I settled my kids into the pew, picked my nose a little bit (an incognito nose pick is one of my many talents), looked up and BLAM-O! I was staring straight into the back of the head of that fine, young, bushy-haired cowboy.
Without thinking I turned toward Jared, pressed my lips on his ear and said, pointing toward the figure up ahead, "I'd totally hit that!"
Jared said, "That?"
I non-nonchalantly nodded, confirming his inquiry. "That."
Jared, never having been a man of jealousy replied, "Of course you would, he's a cowboy."
That man of mine, I swear he knows me better than I know myself. (Now if he's buy a friggin' cowboy suit, we could really kick it up a notch.)
Three hours later, on the drive home, Jared placed is hand on my thigh and said, "You know you're a cougar, right?"
"Well I never! Me? A cougar? I'm not old enough to be a cougar! That's ridiculous and VERY offensive, Jared!"
According to Jared, once a woman hits thirty, she becomes eligible for the cougar title. Is he right?
Oh damn, I'm really afraid that he's right.
(ATTN MORMONS: I'm hoping this post gets Jared off the hook for his new calling, because it's not a calling that should ever be occurring in this household.)