Flirting and Firemen

I have been thinking a lot lately about flirting. I have been feeling like it would be nice to have someone other than the wonderful man with whom I sleep notice me. I already know that he loves and wants and needs me and I know how lucky I am to have him and to love, want and need him back but there is something about flirting with a stranger or even an acquaintance that adds a little bit of excitement to a wife and mother of three's life. But indulging in that thrill can be dangerous and I am not sure that I amactually cut out for living on quite that much of the edge. Call me chicken but I have flown solo a couple of times lately while my Other Half was away and one night in particular my friend ended up being picked up at the bar by a boy who was, at most, half our age. Not my idea of fun especially as he interrupted some female bonding, a rare opportunity for two mothers of three children each. The last thing we needed was a boy coming between our in-depth discussion of What Not To Wear at the Oscars and whether you really have to change the sheets every time a kid throws up in bed. (My rule is that if it's more than once during the night they can sleep on a towel)

The second time was at our ski club's annual Ladies Day, a bit of a drink and dance-fest for women only. This year the ladies who were in charge and who are a good decade younger than our bunch brought in a team of firefighters who were there to serve drinks and hawk their fundraising calendars. They seemed like a nice bunch of guys who had already raised a lot of money for various charities and we had fun when Pete, one of the older (he was 47) guys, joined us on the far reaches of the hill for fresh tracks (one of the best things about Ladies Day is that most of the ladies are too worried about getting helmet head and don't bother to ski at all, leaving the snow for us diehards) But when the show began it got embarrassing for all concerned. In the past we have had a country & western caller and learned to line dance; a bevy of belly dancers who tried to teach us to wiggle our hips and one year we even donned togas and went back to our sorority days but this year it was all about the firemen's talent. One guys "played" a keyboard behind a screen with the "look Ma, no hands" approach. Gross. Another one danced around to "Save a Horse, Rise a Cowboy." Tacky. Now these guys apparently really were firemen, not Chippendales dancers and I think most of them were as embarassed as we were. Well, as some of us were. It seems I might have been one of the few to find it all a little sad. I wish I had taken pictures of the 50 year old plus women jostling themselves into position to dance with these guys. Their perfectly botoxed features actually showing some emotion as they frantically tried to get the men's attention. It was a frightening sight to say the least.

Here we are - protecting Pete.

As for the flirting? Well, I think our friend Pete saw our bunch as a safe haven from the pelvis-grinding mob. He would retreat over to the corner where we were all dancing together to catch his breath and pull up his suspenders (they started out in full firefighting gear) since we were no threat to him and he was no threat to us old married-types. I was only sorry that my best friend who is single had decided not to join us this year since I have never been able to set her up with anyone (living in the smug-married world that I do) and Pete was, in the brief time we hung out with him, worth a second look and maybe even a drive to the suburbs where his hall is located.

So I think, as much as I like the idea of flirting, in reality I will stick to flexts (flirty texts) with my Other Half which we started while he was away and seem to be continuing now that he is back at home. Much more fun and who knows what they might lead to after the kids are asleep ...