Jealous Rage

There is NOTHING wrong with jealousy.

If I fall in love with someone, it is only natural to get insanely jealous when somebody blatantly hits on them. Um. HELLO. This man belongs to ME. He is not his own person. He is my person.

Don’t come near him. Don’t speak to him. Don’t look at him. Don’t even breathe in his direction.

And if HE looks at you then I am going to rage and storm because exCUSE me sir you belong to me what are you doing looking at other things that are not me I am HERE thank you VERY much indeed. Sir. Good day. You are welcome.

Today a woman did just that. And I found myself seething from across the room. SEETHING I tell you. I elbowed my way across and glared so hard at the back of her glossy head and when she turned, I felt insanely threatened, but I smiled sweetly and took off my sunglasses and perched them on the top of my head and fixed my husband with my most deathly stare and, still smiling, I said in the softest voice I could muster,

‘Are you ready to go, sweetheart?’

And I will THANK you NOT to touch my husband. On his ARM. That ARM. is MINE.

Well. That was remarkably dramatic. Phew. Nobody got even a whiff of my inner broil. Not a scorched thumb. I contained it very well I must say.

When we walked away I let go of his arm and I marched on ahead and he said, all wounded, ‘What’s wrong? Did I do something?’

Um yes you did you let that woman touch your arm and LAUGH with you like you did not have a WIFE – an actual real WIFE – so no you did nothing wrong. Of course you did not. Please do not touch me until I have cooled off because right now I could kill a man. Or woman.

Disclaimer: In case it did not translate in the text, this was (mostly) a joke. I am joking. But also very serious. I am seriously in jest. I am mirthfully furious. I am smiling. But also – do not touch my husband.