As young as my spirit is, there’s wee bit of maturity occurring when my romantic daydreams turn away from clashing swords held by gallant long-tressed muscle and honor bound warriors to sweet, funny and sexy dark haired men w/ professional jobs and a strong desire not only to procreate but to fiercely protect family and faith.
My daydreams were at one point quite explicitly sexual in nature but have evolved – especially with the growing of my faith – to more romantic leanings of the Austen mindset. Most of my romantic daydreams involved adventure, witty repartee, quirky manners and shades of silliness. They were fun bits of cotton. Nuanced with sweet nothings, lovely laughs. Now, they are random images. Me running into the house while my hubby holds the umbrella during one of our sudden summer torrential downpours – laughing all the way. Then shaking off the warm droplets, depositing bags/white coats/suit jackets/shoes/ties onto the hall table and playing a game of hide and go seek until we drop on the carpet, laughing. SIGH.