On our great jaunt to the reservation last Friday, things happened that I did not tell you about, and the biggest thing was that as we drove home, suddenly my husband's head whipped around like it was on a swivel.
I get an icky feeling when he ogles like that. I'll never be able to break him of that habit. He's a man. I mean, really, it's not totally his fault, being that the object of his lust was just openly exposed in the front yard of a house for heaven's sake.
"Quit!" I said,
He did not listen, and pulled off the road to turn back.
He headed back and stopped in the driveway. There she was in all her naked glory.
Adopting my most reasonable tones, I pointed out that he did not need another tractor. He pointed out that it had a winch on it. It was a pulling tractor. A work horse.