11:30 pm at a Buffalo Wild Wings in Minnesota I learned the definition of the perfect woman.
Two ‘men’ sitting at the table next to us, I would say they were no more than twenty three or so, were deep in conversation when we were seated.
They had clearly been there a while, their food was gone, beers near empty and they had made themselves pretty comfortable at their high-top. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop when I heard them discussing girl troubles and one man, the most chatty, started questioning if the perfect woman is really out there.
Hearing that I think, he’s a man who has been through many relationships and is trying so hard to find someone compatible for him. Instead I hear him attempt to make a woman at Build-a-Bear workshop:
“Some one who likes sports. Super hot. Super awesome. Hot body. Likes your friends…”
He went on to list seven things total, counting them on his fingers. I was laughing to myself, and not just at the fact that liking sports was on the list. I was sitting there, a married woman, with my husband who I find perfect in everyway; I tried to think about all of the things I used to think were required of my perfect man: Must like the same music as me, must play guitar, funny and sarcastic, etc. The list could go on and on. I looked at my husband and started to check off how many “requirements” he fit- surprisingly, not very many.
But how is that possible? How could I have married someone who wasn’t my definition of perfect? Well, that’s just it, I didn’t. I fell in love with all of the little things that my husband didn’t even realize he was doing.
His sweet looks at me across the table at a restaurant, the way he laughs until tears run down his face at something I can’t find any humor in, the way he starts smiling when he’s trying to be serious or tease me. He hates the music I listen to, he’s never played guitar, our senses of humor are totally different and yet I still find him absolutely perfect.
Moral of the story, don’t get caught up on the list of requirements your perfect person must meet; if they’re the one, they’ll be perfect.
photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/65907812@N06/6528977819″></a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/”>(license)</a>