Saturday, February 23, 2013

Check: Mate

A few days ago, Daughter commented on a married couple she knows. She said they didn't 'match' physically, but she could tell they really loved each other.

Which got me to thinking. Most of us have/had this ideal person in our heads that looked like we wanted our mate to look like.

But looks don't always pan out to what is important in the final scheme of mating. (Really. If you are under seventeen, I know you don't believe it.)

If looks were the only thing, wiry short little guys would almost never get a girl. And tall girls would be banned from the dating scene except for the basketball team.

I don't think for one minute that Beauty sighed in her thoughts and daydreamed about Beast "I want to marry a guy who has a snout and wild boar fangs."  Uh-huh.

And the Prince in Sleeping Beauty? You think he daydreamed of a girl who just laid there and couldn't talk?  Uh, wait....bad example. Maybe he did.

Moving right along.

Husband said he always thought he'd marry a petite, dark haired girl. I am tall and blonde.

I always went for the blond type guy: exhibit A

I need to take a moment. Whew!

Husband is (okay, was) very dark haired. He has the blue eyes, though. 

My point is (surprise, you probably didn't think I had one!) when we get to know someone, we fall in love with the inside not the outside

Husband, whose mama was petite and dark haired, was one of the best mama's in the universe. I may not look like her on the outside, but we are a lot alike on the inside. She was one of the best buddies I have ever had. I think that's because we were alike.

And, I think that's why husband fell in love with me.

When that happens, it doesn't matter if you are the tall girl and he is the wiry little guy. So what? You both love mystery novels, eat tomato sandwiches for breakfast and laugh at serious movies. Who cares how tall you are.

If you haven't found Mr/Miss Right yet, maybe it's because  you're looking in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

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