Shameless (ful) flirt

I don't often express sympathy for my husband, but he deserves it for numerous reasons.  No, not because I reorganize things constantly so he has to relearn where everything is.  And not because I am a bleh cook.

It has to be hard to live with a woman who is a flirt.

As a woman if I'm a jabber-mouth with other women I am just friendly.  But if I am a jabber-mouth with men, then I am a flirt.  Sexist, yes, but that's the way the bread is buttered.  And I am a talker, or typer, since much of my communication in this stay-at-home mom life is via FB and email.

I think it was in high school, or perhaps freshman year of college,  I got together with some friends to celebrate one of our birthdays.  We stopped at Kroger to pick up snacky foods, and while waiting in line I somehow got into a conversation with a cute guy.  I distinctly remember my friends saying something on the order of, "How do you do that?."

Another memory of my inherent flirtiness was when a coworker planned for people to go to happy hour in an attempt to hook me up with D.  D and I did talk a little, but I spent most of the evening flirting with Jose, the husband of one of D's coworkers.  D just sat across the table from me and listened, I guess.  Jose and I just went back and forth, yada-yada-yada.  So D knew what he was getting into.  One of us has to be the talker, right?

I don't think I'm a smarmy kind of flirter.  I think anyone who "flirts" with me knows that I'm all talk and no action.  I wouldn't dream of jeopardizing my marriage and family.

Still, I suspect if the shoe were on the opposite foot and D was the flirter, I probably wouldn't take it in stride, as I think he does.  Course, he doesn't talk much, so he could be bothered.  Until recently, I didn't know it bothered D that I didn't wear my engagement & wedding rings.  I've been wearing them daily ever since.

I reckon I'll soon find out if he's got a problem being wed to a flirt.