When did my husband turn into a silver haired fox?!
I’ve always had a thing for older men… when I was in elementary school and all the girls were pining after Zach from Saved by the Bell and Joey from Blossom, I was getting all hot and bothered by that silver haired beard wearing Trapper John, M.D.
When I met my husband, who was 38 at the time, unlike so many of the guys I dated he had a FULL head of thick black hair, and no noticeable craggy, deep furrowed lines adorning his brow. He was actually pretty youthful -looking- albeit- he’d logged some serious dark circles under his eyes from the endless on-calls he ministered to. Little did I know then, that those dark circles would be a foreshadowing of the pain and frustration he felt as a physician and were the physical manifestations of truly not sleeping for 15 years, but I digress.
This post is about my deep rooted intense infatuation with old men. Fast forward 14 years after our first meeting and my husband has become COMPLETELY gray… yes, I know I am the culprit for his gray- if not for meeting and marrying me, he’d still be one of those swinging bachelors in his Brooklyn Heights penthouse apartment with its carpet covered walls, counting his money albeit alone with no kid’s school tuitions or a wife breathing down his neck to clean his piles of papers, and he’d likely he’d still have his boyish full head of jet black hair.
So has my wifely shrewishness caused him to morph into this silver haired fox? I highly doubt it- although I’ll be honest- it’s totally turning me on (clearly I MUST have issues…deeply rooted ones).