Hen-pecked husbands. . . No thanks. Cock-sure is for me.

"No!" She said, cutting him off mid-sentence. "That's exactly what you do."

He looked at her playfully, and stomped his foot like an adamant child as he pointed in his bowl. He was trying to deny what she was accusing him of, but she wouldn't have it. She looked up at him steadfastly from her chair.

This man, this husband, is in for a long haul. His wife was telling him to not do things, talking down to him, taking sides with his friend when he made fun of him. All morning.

Have fun with your hen-pecked husband, I felt like telling her.  Cuz, he won't put up with it long without passive aggressive revenge or emotional withdrawal.

Wow. Married life can be unappealing.  Between an emasculated hen-pecked man, or a cock-sure cock, I'll take the latter. I'll also accept my responsibility in the matter.  I am guilty of being cocksure at times. However, much less often now I'm aware of the societal situation.  I highly recommend saving that for sports or perhaps in the boardroom, ladies.

A kiss. Payment for dinner. In this case an equal exchange.

I haven't had internet at home for three weeks now. For a blogger this is somewhat of an obstacle. This explains the unusually long time between posts, too.

I went out on a date on Tuesday. He took me to dinner and I ordered mussels. They were delicious, but since I DON't eat bread anymore, they weren't enough. I was still hungry!

We were needing a change of activity, too (boring conversation will do that). So, he took me to another restaurant where I had grilled salmon on salad. Now that's more like it!

At about nine I said I needed to get home. He said he also needed to get home because he goes to bed early. All night, whenever I stated a preference, he seemed to want to have the same preference. Like somehow that would make me like him better, or that I needed to give him approval. 

Blech. What a turn-off.

I'm trying to be open, though. When he leaned over to kiss me, I let him. It wasn't bad.