Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Let Me Call You SWEATheart!
Some men wear their hearts on their sleeve, but not my beloved Papi. Ever the non-conformist, Papi proudly displays his heart for everyone to see (and smell) right across his manly chest.
I was the first to notice that my man sweats out emblems de amore. I am also the first to document the sweaty evidence. When I started teasing him about his unique perspiration designs, he coyly looked at me and responded in his super suave Mexi-accent, "Girlie, I sweat hearts because I'm so full of love both inside and out." Well, he's full of something, alright. After gagging from laughing so hard at his blatant untruths, I started referring to him as "My Sweatheart." Sometimes, I croon mockingly to Papi, "I loved you from the start, and you'll always be my sweatheart." And of course, "Let Me Call You Sweatheart" is de rigeur. If only I could train his sweat glands to produce some Virgin Mary images, I'd sell them for a cool million and we'd be filthy, stinkin rich.
Ummm, I happen to sweat distinctive patterns out of my body too. They're usually precisely skull shaped which sets Papi off tittering about how "my evilness is showing through." There will be no forthcoming pictures of my Skeletor sweat stains.
I chuckled when I found this pic on the Internet. Apparently, my Papi isn't the only one with "the gift." I'm glad that this guy stepped up to have himself photographed because no way did I want the world wide web sneaking a peek at the buff manliness of my Papi's chest. It wouldn't be fair of me to incite lustful thoughts in the minds of all you ladies........or men.