My Hubby to Be

I think I might have stumbled over the perfect husband.

Of course I'd have preferred to have tumbled the guy but them's the breaks.

Gregory Montgomery. Sure he's married to a certain dizzy blonde hippie environmentalist named Dharma but hell, I think I could take her. With her belief in the kindness and goodness of strangers, she's certainly trusting enough to eat the special organic carrot cake I'd make - and then later I can spend the entire wake soothing the hunky widower and his bereaved pets, Nunzio and Stinky.


My husband Greg and his late wife, the blond Amazon!
Don't think I've gone off the marital bend and betrayed poor Charming Calvin this time. All this only happens in situational comedies on television - specifically the perky Dharma & Greg that ran for a measly five seasons way back ( and recently released in DVD boxsets! ). The staple of television comedies with the perennial tale of opposites attract - this time with the straight-laced, blue-blood attorney impulsively hitching himself to a free-spirited, hippie yoga instructor.

Cue the laugh track.

Well at least for the first season or two.


You would think that I'd be the kind who'd go for the growling bad boys of steamy afternoon soaps but you'd be wrong there! I've always gone for the good fellas - such as the hunky Gregory above. The squeaky-clean mama's boys who predictably slog from 9 to 5 only to rush home to prepare gourmet dinners in their perfect kitchens.

Paul : What's the rush, honey?
Husband : It's 7.03, my coffee's two degrees too hot and I can't find my work underwear!
Paul : Well it's probably in the wash so you can get extras from your emergency work underwear drawer next to your extra buttons for monogrammed shirts compartment.
Husband : Too true. Sorry for snapping at you.
Paul : Not a problem, sweetie. Get me some organic bran muffins on the way back.
Husband : If I get back early, we can probably schedule in some make-out time after dinner at 9!
Paul : Sounds lovely. Get some lube on the way out too. We're running out.

Sounds really Stepford, I know.

I leave the wicked hunka burning loves for the more adventurous ( suicidal? ) souls amongst us. Me, I like them stable, reliable and a bit of a fuddy-duddy sometimes. If I want excitement, I can always get tickets for the roller coaster.