Last night Sam and I went down to Party in the Park, Cincinnati’s summer soiree that happens every Wednesday night where folks gather to drink beer and listen to live music. We started talking about potential mates, and I noted that there wasn’t a single man there within my age range. I might as well wait until I’m 45 to have some sort of romantic social life. He tried to disagree with me, but I pointed out the thirty-somethings that were there had never been married and were not looking to date a divorced mom of three. Those who might not be opposed to a relationship with a single mom were in their fifties and were looking more for someone in their mid- forties with older children. Again, not in my spectrum of possible partners. Sam begrudgingly agreed that the pickings were slim, but insisted that 45 seems like an awful long time to wait for that special someone to steal my heart. Perhaps he has a point, but I wouldn’t be opposed to waiting that long for the right someone. Continue reading →