It was the simple fact that he looked like he had it together. Whether he does or not is not the point. But he looked it. He was the strong provider. He passed her money clip (a flippin' money clip!) with a wad of bills in it to pay for the food, while he sat at the table with the baby. He wore a fitted hat, oversized shirt and short, and sneakers. All in pristine condition and all various shades of the color red. The fiancee had quite the serious ring on her finger and she was looking fabulous despite the fact that she had given birth not too long ago. Hair perfectly coiffed, cute outfit, large designer sunglasses ( y'know, the ones that make you look like an insect). I, on the other hand, wore a sweatshirt, bandanna, perscription glasses and carried a squirming toddler in my arms (who much to my chagrin was mistaken for a boy despite wearing kickass pink Vans). I wasn't looking busted, but I felt that way in their presence. To add insult to injury, I heard that he had recently purchased a home, while AB and I sleep in my childhood bedroom. Sadly, it made me feel better that he had become pudgy in the 5+ years that I had last seen him.While I did not see their bundle of joy, (though I could tell it was boy from the socks and various accoutrements on the carseat), I found solace in the fact that my kid is probably cuter than theirs, in all her tomboy glory.
