Several years ago, Rowland and I were out on a first post-baby date. I was still carrying some post-baby weight and wasn’t feeling very attractive. While Rowland was finishing up in a store, I went ahead of him to get into the truck, a huge Ford F-250. As I was climbing in, I noticed several men walking past who were obviously checking me out. I thought to myself, “Well, I must not look that bad! They think I’m cute.” About that time, I heard one of the men say, “Damn! What a gorgeous truck!”

Fast forward to yesterday at the hardware store. Rowland was waiting for some paint to be mixed, and I was back in the plumbing department looking for an ice maker kit. Once again, I was feeling a little blah since most of my makeup was gone, and I was running around in sweats. I kept noticing this man looking at me. Feeling uncomfortable, I tried to avoid the aisle he would be looking on, but I just kept bumping into him. I also kept thinking, “Why would this man be checking me out like that? I look like crap!” Finally, we ended up side by side on an aisle and happened to look at each other at exactly the same time. Embarrassed, I started to look away when he said, “Those glasses look great on you!” Me, outloud: “Thank you.” Me, to myself, “What are you, a freakin’ optometrist?”