Testosterone Man, in a sea of estrogen....

My poor husband...

Completely, hopelessly surrounded by women of all ages, sizes & species...

The cat is even a girl!

It's all good when he first gets home.  All the girlies swarm him with hugs & kisses - BUT THEN...we want to talk.  All of us - usually consecutively.

Personally, I know when to shut up.  If he comes home with a scowl on his face, I know stay away, far far away.  I cook dinner & be gone with myself until he's human again.

Not the girls - they barrage him with daddy, look at my lip gloss.  Daddy, look at my nails.  Daddy, look at the new shoes mommy bought me, daddy, daddy, daddy.  Then my baby girl - who has no concept of what the "Readers Digest" version of a story is (even I tell her to get on with it) - will launch into her fun filled day with every single possible detail and color.  I very clearly see my husband's eyes glaze over and he drifts off somewhere in time between Bike week & some other manly event that doesn't have any (little) girlie stuff anywhere.  Then he'll drift back and... Oh my gosh, she's still talking, lol...

I could save him, but nah - I've got to cook dinner some time...

Kyle is barely home anymore.  In a few more weeks he'll be off to boot camp & soon there will be no additional testosterone to spread around all the fluffy things in our house.  Just lip gloss - everywhere...  Oh and nail polish & perfume & bubble bath & pretty pretty poofs.

It is very funny, really.  You see my husband is a big, bald, tattooed biker dude, left to carrying around our daughter's very pink Hannah Montana purse.

Again, poor guy!  All that testosterone floating around in this mighty sea of estrogen.

All I have to say is "Ahoy Matey"!

I guess it could be worse.

Have a great day!

Thank you for reading my blog!

~Jenn