My husband likes boots. For himself, on women, on anyone – he just likes the look of boots. Tall boots. Preferably with buckles. Or lots of lacings. If we’re somewhere and I notice he’s checking someone out, I know it’s because they’re wearing cool boots. And half the time it’s a guy…
Pretty much anyone who knows Sean knows about his boot “fetish”. (Don’t ask me how many pairs of John Fluevog boots he has…twenty or more I’m sure!). With women, he’s not a “leg-guy” or a “butt-guy” or a “chest-guy”. Nope, he’s a “boot-guy”.
Last week I ordered some clothes online. When they came, I was already wearing leggings, boots, and a big sweater (it’s been cold and rainy here, sadly). I grabbed the box and rushed into the bedroom to try on my new purchases. I slipped on the new skirt and top, but left my boots and leggings on simply out of laziness.
Walking into the kitchen, where Sean was cooking, I asked “how does this look?”
Sean’s attention immediately focused on my feet and he asked “Are those new boots?”
I was dumbfounded for a second. I mean really, I’ve had these for a while. And the skirt and blouse were very obviously new, and not what I was wearing just minutes before!
Finally I gave up. Gesturing to my chest to catch his attention, I said “Honey, my boobs are up here!”
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