"How would you even wear something like that," The Man asked, scratching his head.
While his question was valid, coming from the opposite sex, it didn't detour his attention, which was solely focused on The Angels on our TV screen.
It was time for the annual Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, and I had been excited for weeks.
Though there really is no answer for his question — because all women know that only The Angels can wear the complete ensembles — us average types can and do actually wear the basics.
So there I sat, just as enthralled as The Man, in my oversized sweats and hoodie with my bowl of ice cream.
Hey, just because The Angels don't eat, it doesn't mean I can't enjoy fine food when I see it.
"You know, I used to think I could be a Victoria's Secret model," I said to The Man between bites.
His raised eyebrow told me I could continue.
"But then I met ice cream, Diet Coke and a bit of a desk job."
The ice cream dripping from my nose made it clear that I thought I was funny. The Man looked on in disgust — or maybe embarrassment — either way, I wasn't getting any closer to being a model or funny.
I continued watching, and making my Christmas wish list for the Secret's Santa, but I couldn't help but wonder what my life would be like had my childhood dreams of the runway came true.
Not only would my dad have died of a heart attack after seeing his only daughter in undies with wings, but my poor dogs would have probably starved nearly to death right alongside me. Who else would give them their daily helping of table scraps if I were living off nothing but egg powder and water?
Being on stage with my arms and legs showing wasn't an issue. I grew up taking dance lessons. There was probably a time or two I flaunted a favorite dance costume up and down the hallway of our house.
So how's the list look so far? Eating nothing? Debatable. Modeling sparkly costumes? Check. Next stop? Those shoes!
Being a farm kid, the only thing I used a high heel for was to drive thumb tacks into my bedroom walls to hold up posters and photos. Not sure I even realized you could wear them and actually walk around.
The Man has already accused me of having "baby giraffe syndrome" the few times I've braved one or two inch heels. I'd look like a monkey on stilts if I had to wear those cute but extremely high Angel stilettos.
With two of the three major Victoria's Secret model qualifications a bust, I finished off my ice cream and popped in a movie.