An Evolved Woman
I am that rarest of rare birds: an Evolved Woman.I don't care if my husband visits an establishment of scantily-clad women. Well, so long as there's no touching.
I don't care if my husband gets drunk, so long as he doesn't wake up the baby.
I don't even care if he leaves the toilet seat up. Frankly, I've been trained to look before I leap, so to speak.
So, good news, gentlemen. Womankind is adapting.
Perhaps you could do the same?
Perhaps it doesn't have to make you crazy if we spend $150 on another black leather handbag. Or take the day off and spend it at a spa. Or, you know, ask you to please not track mud through the house. That would be nice.
(Just for the record, my husband is evolved too. None of these things bother him. But, I am aware of others who are less fortunate. This post is for those women.)
