“You did that again!” Doris accused me in a half-amused, half-disgusted tone.

“ Did what?” I asked, eyeing her suspiciously, but I had a terrible hunch what this conversation might lead to.

“Ogling with your husband!” Doris said bluntly.

“Of course I was not!” I said, but my store of snappy comebacks failed immediately when everyone else burst into a laugh.

My husband and I worked in the same neighborhood, and since there were not many good places nearby for lunch, we kept banging into each other at noon. And today was just one of the many occasions when we happened to choose the same place to grab a bite. After I found him and his colleagues there, I went forward and asked him to give me keys. How could such innocent encounter being defined as ogling each other, I totally had no idea.

After they finally ceased to laugh, S started again: “How many years have you married to this guy? Seven or eight years? If I have lived with someone, anyone for that long, I probably could not bear another look more than necessary! But you still look at him as if he was your high school sweat heart, and for God’s Sake, you even blushed!”

“I didn’t blush, even if I blushed, that was because I was allergic.” I tried to sound strong about it, if my voice lacked the volume I’d wanted, that only because I have never been a strong talker.  

For God’s sake, he is my husband, and he is not that hot. I know, better than anyone that he is just a common man with common thoughts, a man who have led a common life, nothing special. Besides, his hair started thinned on the top; years have already lined his face, and his totally lack of enthusiasm for family chores, with his obviously exceedingly passions for criticizing me when I did so, could still,---after more than seven years of marriage---send me off the edge, and sometimes, I just wanted to dump a canister of flour on top of his head! Marriage is all about adjustment, all I could say was that we have done that not badly.

Certainly after years of marriage, his appearance could no longer make my toes curled, or my heart beat faster. When I occasionally thought of him, or the relationship between us, what came to mind was comfort and compatibility, a sense of ease, of fitting together. Despite all the complaints, he is still the father of my son, the man who stands between me and the world. Therefore if occasionally I eyed him softly, girls, it’s really nothing more than a natural response.