Written by Rose
It’s happened before but this time I saw it coming, this affair my husband is now carrying on nearly every night.
I’ve given up ignoring it.
Sometimes, I even watch.
It’s like watching a race horse in motion: fast, muscular, smiling but dangerous and makes talent look effortless.
Oh, my husband has flirted with her in the past, shamelessly losing himself to her wily ways.
This time, though, he sees her several times-a-week; she has completely captivated him.
She’s poetry-in-motion yet primitive, sometimes even crude.
She’s like a precision sports car and often leaves collateral damage, pain and wreckage in her wake each night without even a thought.
No Hope, Ladies.
Nevermind Hairdos or Lace.
Yes, ladies, as many of you know, the NHL is now back on air after a long hiatus and this season (or, should I say, what’s left of it) her seasonal flirtation with our husbands is now a super-saturated-hockey-concentrate of 48 games compressed into the relatively few weeks remaining between now and the Stanley Cup Playoffs.
I can see this calls for pulling out all the stops; perhaps I can get my husband’s attention if I don a truly irresistible little number that I save for just such occasions…
My hockey jersey.
So, what time’s the game on tonight?