bum

My aunt was over, having dropped off a container of homemade meatballs for my mom. "I think one of your problems is that you're too picky."

Me-:"What makes you say that?"

Aunt-:"There are plenty of guys here in town. You just have to understand that most of them are divorced."

I cringed when she said that. Just cringed.

Me-:"Well, I'm not going to change my mind on that. I've dated divorced guys, more then once over the years and it's never gone well."

Aunt-:"Have you made a list of what you're looking for? That website I sent you the link for says if you make a list and do the gratitude prayer every day..."

Me-:"Yeah, been doing that for the last few years. Hasn't really worked unless you count the Kid from Mexico I had been friends with on the social site. He hit like five of my things on the list that I'm looking for in a guy."

Her mouth dropped open. "Then why did you pass him over?"

Me-:"Because I learned something. To listen to my gut. He was cute, he was sweet, but I just knew he wasn't the one. Even though he's been like the only guy to ever have more then one thing on my husband/soulmate wish list; he just wasn't...it."

Aunt-:"Maybe he just wasn't it yet."  she waggled her finger at me, nodding. "Eh? Maybe your timing was just off, and he's going to come back into your life?"

Me-:"Uh, no. He just wasn't the right guy. Which means, that I should have a better idea when the right guy does."

Aunt-:"You know, you're not going to find anyone as long as you're so insecure. You've got to start believing in yourself girl."

Okay fine, I believe that the right man for me will let me know he's the guy when he shows up in my life, and talks about Frankenstein or the Addams Family or the Munsters.

Aunt-:"When was the last time you even put on make-up?"

Me-:"Uh...okay yeah don't know, years."

Aunt-:"Live a little. You'll never catch a man looking like a bum."

Me-:"Better to look like a bum then to try to have a man looking at my bum."

She screwed up her face on that one, just not getting the funny.