...of the Billie Holiday standard in my sidebar.
I love Billie, but Harry... Oh, Harry ~ what can you say?
Pleasant on the eyes and ears, isn't he?
Does your husband feel threatened by your famous people preferences? Does it come up? We didn't actually even discuss whether this was an issue for us or not until we'd been married twenty years!
So I guess it wasn't an issue. He knows I'm wild about Harry. I know he likes... Who is it? Angelina Jolie? Or that girl that sings Bubbly? Oh, good grief. I don't even remember!
Can you tell celebrity "crushes" don't worry either of us? Maybe we're just too old, or maybe we're just sure of one another. He breathes in, I breathe out. That tingle of jealousy that might have come with youth or insecurity has been replaced with a sweet, comfortable knowlege.
I'm glad of it. The fire is settled contentedly on the hearth, bright and steady but livened up with an occasional, unexpected pop and sizzle. You gotta love that.
If Harry came knocking at my door, and somehow could overlook the children at my feet, the grey at my temples and the rings under my eyes... I say, if Harry came to my door, and was even half the air-brushed, suave, leading man he appears in his videos, and twinkled his eyes and dimpled that grin at me...
I'd offer him a cup of coffee and ask him about his children, find out if he was still a practicing Catholic, and I'd call my husband to tell him to come home quick ~ "You'll never guess who's at our house!"