An Open Letter to My Husband's Mistress

An Open Letter to My Husband's Mistress

(check out my blog every Monday)

I just thought I'd take a late summer moment to give a nice little shout-out to my husband's mistress: Hi, hon! Love your new Jimmy Choos! Oh, your boyfriend bought them for you? Wow.

I didn't know he — my husband, I mean — had such excellent taste in shoes!

So he went right into the Madison Avenue store with you? Did you sit on his lap as Francisco, down on his knees, measured your delicate, expensively pedicured foot? Maybe you got a quick little reflexology session while Francisco disappeared into the back to gather your requests? How cool!

Did you know that that same man yells at me when I come home with a fresh pedicure from the Korean salon next to the train station? Yells at me when he sees the shoe bill from Century 21, let alone Jimmy Choo right on Madison.

When I tell him that my pedicure was a Wednesday half-price special, he says, "Screw the pedicure... shouldn't you be going to the gym?"

Oh, he hasn't given you that disapproving little lecture? That's right, you haven't had two kids yet (and when he's with you, he doesn't have kids, either). You don't have to decide daily whether to run to the gym after work, or go straight to the big kid's hockey game, or indulge in a — oh god — a pedicure, before you hit the home front with all four cylinders running.

Oh, that's right: You can take a two-hour lunch for shoe shopping.

Right now, my lunches are spent at my desk, because I'm filling out back-to-school emergency forms, and figuring out which stores I have to zip through on my way home. You'll find me at JCPenny's, gathering back-to-school supplies.

You, you can have a Bellini at Cipriani after work (with my husband even — which is awesome, girl!) then stumble off drunkenly to the gym while he catches the train home.

Hell, after the gym you can even go to the fancy nail place that stays open until 11 pm and get that pedicure.

And darlin', no man is ever gonna complain about that, or tell you to do otherwise. No, you are your own woman! You just happen to be sleeping with my man.

A man who doesn't make you choose between the nail salon and the gym. And you get the Jimmy Choos to boot!

Heck, with him paying for the shoes, you can afford the fancy gym membership and the fancy nail salon. I love that "like linen" color on you — so sheer! It must go great with your new Choos.

That's workin' it, girl!

You must think I'm pathetic, if you think of me at all.

It must help ease any pangs of guilt if you think he is stuck with someone so pathetic.

What? No guilt pangs? What was I thinking?

But I'm not letting DH (darling husband) completely off the hook. I'm going to write about that next time. But for now, here's to you, Miss Jimmy Choos.

Hope you had a great shopping spree.