wrong

listen, i'm not entirely crazy. there are certain impulses that i know deep down are just plain wrong.
like how i want to buy cowboy boots. it's wrong.
and my desire for a personalized t-shirt that has a cartoon monkey in a school bus on it. so wrong.

but then there are times when the wrongness line isn't as clear.
like when i propose to the mall ice cream man. er, boy. well, not a boy, but not yet a man.
i'd like to think that there's no shame in that kind of whirlwind, chocolate-icecream-brownie-hot-fudge-volcano-centric romance no matter how mrs. robinsonesque it might be.
i'd like to think that being invited to his band's nursing home gig that night was nothing but adorable.
but because i'm not entirely crazy, i have a nagging feeling that my short lived affair with the icecream manboy was, well, wrongish.

man... remember the part about the hot fudge volcano?

it's like i was proclaiming on friday, when it comes to the female obsession with chocolate, man's role is not to question, but to enable.