You are picturing her naked, aren't you?

I couple of days ago, I wrote about Muse, and Pieces congratulated her on her winning Bloggin' Hottie of the Month for December in the comments to that day's post. Classy move from a classy lady. My response to Pieces was: "knowing my hubbie, you would be his wet dream; really! So stay away from Savannah, please. And you are a hottie, sweetie! Darned you!"

Sort of a smart ass comment, but I meant it. I have been with my hubbie long enough to know what kinds of women get his engines running. People who have been in long committed relationships probably know who their mates are attracted to. It is just part of being a couple (married, living together, straight, gay, whatever).

I remember having a conversation about what turns hubbie on years before we were married. And his answer told me nothing: "I like breasts." Thanks, sweetie. So enlightening.

Over the years, consciously or somewhat unconsciously, I began to notice what types of women turned his head. A woman can tell when her man (or woman?) checks someone out while having you on his arm. And lucky for me, most of the woman he looked at were similar to me – brunette, short, not huge breasts (thank goodness!), more cute than sexy – but can be sexy. Young face, looks fresh, nice smile – not sure if I can nail this down. But if you wander over to Pieces, it is just like she looks. Hubbie never told me this, but over time, I figured it out.

Earlier this year – well, technically last year, last summer – we were at an end-of-summer work picnic for my hubbie's work. By the way, a little rant: why do employers want people to spend their free time with co-workers? I never go to anything at my work (hubbie is more of a bread-winner), but we go to hubbie's because of the politics involved. I admit I sometimes want to know what people look like so when hubbie is telling his stories, I can picture the cast.

Okay, so we are at this summer picnic. You know, where you reserve a place at a park, play volleyball (or horseshoes or whatever), eat food that potentially will make you sick, and chat about nothing of substance.

I had noticed my hubbie' "checking her out" (wife of a co-worker) stare a few times, and I went over to where he was, and I whispered in his ear: "You are picturing her naked, aren't you?"

I just wanted to let him know he was busted.

He gave me a little laugh – and I can tell his laughs. I know he wanted it to sound like the "you are full of crap" laugh, but it was the nervous "how can I mitigate the damages" laugh.

When I was younger, I would get mad. But I have figured out that men are visual creatures. He was not picking her instead of me, but she stirred something in him. She was his wet dream that day. And another rant: why don't women have wet dreams when they are in adolescence? It is sort of a rip off, boys get to virtually screw girls in their dreams, and it is so real that they have an orgasm, and girls "get their periods." How fair is that?

Now that I am older, I know my hubbie better, and he looks because he is a guy. Muse is gorgeous – and I know she turns lots of heads. My hubbie would never give her a second glance (unless he were in NY and she was naked in a window). But his eyes would follow Pieces' face, her chest, and watch her ass as she walked down the street. And why I am still a bit jealous (uncontrollably), I no longer get mad at hubbie.

So even if he does picture the co-worker's wife naked, he is coming home with me. He loves me, and I understand that is work – he spends energy in loving me. And that gives me pause to smile, and love him even when his eyes occasionally wander.