Let’s get one thing straight. I’m gay for one man and one man only and that man is Taylor. I literally feel so bad for everyone else in the world because they don’t get to be married to him. I love his personality so much that I forget he has a face. Which is actually like finding a folded $100 you forgot about in your pocket. Like every once in a while I’ll see Taylor out of the corner of my eye and notice that he is strikingly handsome with a strong jawline, deep emerald green eyes, and a delicious dimple to boot.

I did very well for myself to secure myself a man who has a great personality and is incredibly handsome. At 19, all I had to offer was a flat chested bod and a questionable personality. HOW he managed to be entranced by my womanly wiles is a miracle fit for the New Testament.

But I digress.

Now that my love & dominance are established, lemme tell you about my kids’ dentist.

My kids dentist is hot. He’s a nice guy, good at his job, maybe has a personality. Whatever. Nothing I’d normally write home about.

But he does get mention because he is absolutely gorgeous.

Look. I get that women will be prettier than me. That is fine. It’s not hard to do. And it’s fine because women will make beauty videos and give tips and fix each other’s crowns and the like.

But it’s just plain hurtful when a man is prettier than any woman I know, ergo, prettier than I could ever hope to be.

And you KNOW that we’re all milfs!

But, Chaun, you’re married! You can’t be attracted to another man!

Ew. No. I would rather fistfight a spiderbear than entertain romantic thoughts of any man other than Taylor. For a hot minute, I need you to forget my milfyness and forget entirely that I’m a hetero woman for this conversation to make sense.

Even better, just remember me as this sea amoeba:

The dentist and I are about the same age. In the same decade, this dude got his undergrad, went to dental school, and became partner of a pediatric dental practice. He works with screechy cavity ridden children – on purpose.

Meanwhile, I’ve managed to fill that same amount of time eating sleeves of Girl Scout cookies and making vision boards of impossible quests. You wouldn’t believe how much time I’ve spent researching carpentry plans for cat wedding chapels.

The differences in our careers (or lack thereof) is intimidating but understandable. A lot happens in ten years. Either way, he and I are at the same stage in life. Married, few kids, emotionally dependent on the Heeler family, whatever. All fair.

But what’s NOT fair is that the man also has the audacity to flaunt his toned muscles.

Ew, Chaun, you can’t admire another man’s muscles!

Again. You misunderstand. I am not admiring them. I am unnerved by them. How does someone go through all that school, spend all day with screechy little people, work odd hours, manage a family of their own, and still find time to pump iron tombstones.

HOW.

I cannot remember the last time I was moderately fit, much less physically toned. Early in our marriage, Taylor once flopped an arm around me while snuggling. He squeezed my bicep and immediately yanked his hand away. He immediately and profusely apologized for violating me.

You guys. My bicep was so underdefined that my man thought he’d accidentally groped me.

Follow me for more health tips!

I am a walking embodiment of squish and comfort and cookies which is perfect for snuggling babies and eating more cookies. But I’m just saying. I wouldn’t mind a trim physique to pair with my winning personality. Secretly, I dream of the day of when I don’t gasp in fear at my appearance when I accidentally catch my reflection the mirror.

Solid abs would be cool too. Especially since I have this goal to join search and rescue in 3 months. (See reference: vision board of impossible quests.)

So there you have it. My kids’ gorgeous dentist makes me feel like a drowned mountain boomer in his presence. And it’s only worsened by the fact that he’s very nice. It’s so much easier to hate the mean hot people. Nice hot people just make me feel bad. ☹️

Am I attracted to my kids’ dentist? Nope. Am I insecure because of my kids’ dentist? Probably. Yes? I don’t know. It would be nice if he felt prompted to text me his primping routine or whatever. Otherwise, I’d be forced to make a creepy, desperate blog post about him and my reputation couldn’t handle that.