Twenty-Eight…
I never imagined myself marrying a younger man. (For a lot of years I never imagined myself getting married but that’s a story for a different day.) Boys mature so much slower than girls. Why would I want to be with someone younger than me? Then I met Bob. Granted the very first picture I saw of him I thought he was fifteen and not twenty-five. My initial instinct was to panic—he’s three years younger… Keep reading…Twenty-Eight…