A bit of ew here, a bit of "Oh goodness no!" there

Shameless Amy confession #572: As a child, sometimes I substituted Barbie & Ken's names for Maria & Captain von Trapp.

Shameless Amy confession #602: While young and still mulletized, I was known to entertain the extended family at holidays with my rendition of the entire Sound of Music score.

Shameless Amy confession #748: I sincerely hope that "somewhere in my youth...or childhood, I must've done something good."

And I suppose if I haven't done something good, I might as well get thee to a nunnery. Perhaps I'll be able to light enough vigil candles while continously saying the rosary that eventually Mother Superior will come to me and inform me that an old sea captain is in need of a governess.

But I think I'd prefer to skip the whole habit thing. I don't do constriction.

What I've also decided-- now that I'm mulletless and at least on the road to being all grown up, if I'm not already-- is that I have no desire to be the next Maria von Trapp. I don't care if I find a man whose children are the perfect blend of soprano, alto, tenor and bass. I don't care if they have perfect pitch. If you've got enough kids to form your own basketball team, the answer is no.

While I am without a doubt, incredibly off the dating market and safely into the arms and heart of my Southern Charmer Seth, I'm still getting hits from all the Prince Charmings...er...*cough cough*...Prince Something or Others of the dating world. At least for another month.

And I found two, or rather, two that found me, that I'm pretty sure are not the answer to my mother's prayers that there is at least one male human being on the planet that will put up with her youngest daughter. Make that one straight male human being.

Exhibit A: Captain von Trapp

I like kids. I like playing with my nieces and nephews and sugaring them up and giggling with them and then passing them back to their parents. One day, I wouldn't mind having a few of my own that I couldn't pawn off at the end of the day. And I suppose I could adapt to dating a man with a kid. Or two.

But if you've got so many kids that the number isn't even an option on your online dating profile, I'm afraid I'll have to pass. I can barely drive my Dad's Honda Odyssey and parallel parking my own Honda Accord makes me break out in hives. I don't think I'm really equipped to drive whatever sort of large vehicle it would take to accommodate all those children. I can handle probably a max of 3-4 children under the age of 7 at a time, and it is entirely dependent on how many servings of "Mr. Chippy" pancakes from Perkins they have consumed. Not to mention I am mildly addicted to Sephora. I really don't think I can trade in my expensive mascara splurges so that an entire chunk of my budget can be dedicated to sippy cups.

Exhibit B: Last time I checked my Grandma was single.

You can kind of tell how desperate a guy is by the answers he gives for what he's looking for in a mate.

If it's someone between the ages of 21-27, between 5'3"-5'8" within 50 miles of Milwaukee. You're golden.

If it's someone between the ages of 18-95, between 4'6"-6'8" located anywhere in the world, step off. And I mean back away as quickly and quietly before he notices there's someone with a pulse within range of his dating profile.

What I can't figure out though, is what in the heck you do when a guy in your age range specifically wants women receiving social security. Like I've heard of the "cougars"-- older women going for younger men. And "The Graduate" and "American Pie" pretty much made it cool for a younger man to go for an older woman.

But really? Being my age and honest to goodness, being entirely serious about this, stating that you're not just looking for any woman-- but a, and I quote, "senior citizen" to be your wife, lover and soulmate?

Ick.


I personally prefer my men not to be born in the Stone Age. Except for this kind gent. He certainly is a hottie. Sadly, not Catholic though.