Monday, June 23, 2014

Objectifying my Husband for His Body

Yesterday Grant and I sat on the couch inbetween two Bell's Oberon and two small children and watched the US play Portugal in the World Cup. At one point I mused aloud to Grant that it has to be a rule if you want to play soccer that you must be incredibly hot. Even the guy on the US team with the white boy dreads was gorgeous. And that is not usually a look that turns my head. But the intensity with which they play and the pride they have for the game and each other, and their sweaty shirts sticking to their beautiful, beautiful abs...

Then I felt it...that sparkly feeling in my stomach that gets my attention and makes the rest of the room go out of focus. Butterflies. All I want to do is stare at the hot soccer player that at this moment is using his sexy calves to walk across the room and get a cup of juice for my son. I watch his gorgeous backside go into the kitchen and start to imagine what he looks like with his clothes off...

Being married is awesome. Being married to a soccer player is more awesome.

1 comment:

  1. Amen. No athletes have hotter bodies than soccer players!

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