My very sexy hubbs turned 40 this week. He’s got a tiny balding spot and a little Buddha belly that I find particularly adorable. Him-not so much. Honestly, it’s kinda nice to not be the only one with a belly (three children were not kind to my waistline, if you can call it that).

I knew 40 was gonna be a tough one for him with as much flack as he gave me when I turned 40. I tried to explain I married a younger man on purpose. However, what was old when I was a teenager or young adult suddenly doesn’t seem so old. My dad is 80 – and pretty spry for a white guy.

The problem with me seeing and knowing and enjoying that the hubbs is sexy to me does not carry as much weight as it used to (no pun intended)…. Sadly, I’m not the hot young thing I used to be either. So, on the hubbs birthday I played it low-key, gave him some good lovin, and even let him have my spot while we relaxed and watched some television together. I asked him, before we went to sleep, “Are you happy, generally?” To which my laconic hubbs replied-yeah, and smiled then gave me a kiss. Call me crazy, but that’s sexy.

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