I am beginning to think that all men are really just "Pudding in the Box," and until they prove themselves, that is how they need to be looked upon. As nothing serious. Nothing that has proven themselves to be worthy of our time, of our tears, of our fears.
Recently "bought a cowboy" (Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy) and eventually will have a date with him. (its scheduled for tonight) It started out very wild? Partly because he's never been auctioned off and I've never bought a cowboy before; and while I wasn't embarrassed, I just was kind of like a deer in the headlights. (Oh shit, now what?)
And while we both were feeling, acting in a "holy shit" manner, he still gave me his card with his number. He still hugged me and said, "call and we'll go out." And ultimately, he did still call me back after I asked him out. (Yes, there was a moment that I didn't know)
So why do we cry over pudding in a box? If it isn't any good, is it really our fault? So we put the right amount of milk in, so we whipped and mixed it for the correct amount of time - just like mom showed us - and we let it chill the right amount of time ....
If it isn't any good, could it not be that the actually pudding that comes in the box, is the problem?
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