Alex loves my legs. If I'm changing my clothes, the second I get my pants off, he runs over and hugs my thighs. If I'm walking around the house in my jammies (a pair of boxers and t-shirt, sexy, I know), I can't get him off me. He permanently attaches himself to my leg in a bear hug.
My thighs are without question the least attractive part of my body. They're white, dimply and since the pregnancy, are covered in spider veins that have created a pretty accurate map of the New York City Subway system. The fact that Alex finds them irresistible is just one more thing that makes him a weirdo. But I am flattered. His pure love and appreciation for a part of my body I can't stand makes me take another look at them. No wonder he loves them. They're soft, squishy and probably comfortable to take a nap on. Maybe I don't hate them as much as I thought I did.
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