There I was, standing in the toothpaste and mouthwash aisle of Walgreens, picking up packages of Crest tooth whitening "systems" and wondering idly (since I had no intention of buying any of them) whether Whitestrips Advanced Seal Technology is better than Whitestrips Pro Effects is better than Whitestrips Premium is better than Whitestrips Classic and whether any of them are worth the $30 to $45 pricetag, when I felt a hand cup my bottom in a most familiar way.

"Hello, there," I said, not even looking up from my fascinating label reading.

Buck had seen my car in the parking lot as he was returning from a visit to the audiologist to tune up his black secret agent-looking digital behind-the-ear hearing aids.

"Let's go home," he said, smiling in that dirt road sport kind of way that always gets me.

Whatever familiarity may breed in some quarters, around here it sure ain't contempt.

6 thoughts on “Familiarity

  1. If my husband had the nerve to get intimate in a public place, he’d go for a breast. I often wonder if when he looks at me, he ever sees anything but THEM. Sheesh!
    “…dirt road sport kind of way…”
    Priceless words.


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