on being scrumptious

The date last week sent me a message extolling the extent of my scrumptiousness. So apparently those weren’t such innocent caresses on my hand and upper arm. Of course I’m flattered by the attention but so much time has passed and I’m not sure if I want a repeat of last year’s bumpy ride. Yes he is charming and cute and lovely but I’m warier now and even though it’s flattering to find out that he still has the hots for me – where can it lead to?

This morning I bumped into Madelaine and we chatted on the street corner. We had been mums together at the school gates in another life. Her four are also all grown up now – the eldest is 32, youngest 20. She was walking two little black poms and I my large black mutt. Suddenly she started to yell across the street to a passing driver – he had slowed down and paused to look us over – I caught the flirty tone of her voice and realised that she must have clocked him clocking us. I was suddenly full of admiration for this woman of 60 who clearly can still pull.

Haha, no darling, she laughed her full throaty laugh – he wasn’t looking at me. He didn’t stop his car because of this, pointing to her overall get up – windswept wisps of hair escaping from the scrunchy which pulled the rest of her black hair into a ponytail at the top of her head and her dark blue anorak over her short summer dress.

You’re showing quite a bit of leg there – I teased her as it dawned on me that it might be the combination of the two of us as I was in shorts and a vest top.

When we parted I mused on the fact that whilst I may have the looks and brain to attract the opposite sex, I was still nowhere closer to knowing what I wanted from them afterwards.

One thought on “on being scrumptious

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s