Finding David

When one of my unmarried friends was discussing the dearth of eligible men the other day, she was telling me how lucky I was to find Baa- Lamb. Now I’m not about to contend that – far from it, but really, the baa-lamb of today isn’t the Baa-lamb of yesterday. He’s been a work in progress.

I’m generally not a male basher. I have a healthy respect for them. They are essential and vital for the propagation of our species – until medical technology can catch up. So it is not lightly that I say this. Men have to be viewed like works in progress. Take David for example. No, not your hunk of a neighbour that you’ve been eyeing for some time now. I’m talking about Michelangelo’s David. That perfect specimen of manhood that Michelangelo lovingly crafted into perfection. Before Michelangelo could lay his hands on ‘im, he was just a block of marble – a block of marble with potential, no doubt, but a block of marble. It took 25 years of exposure to the elements, the eyes of a Michelangelo and the craftsmanship of a true master to realise David as we see him today.

Just like David, there may have been others who saw potential, but gave up half way, and I guess that’s what the ex-es are. The quitters. You, my love have to be the Michelangelo.

We need to stop looking out for David. What we need to identify is the block of marble that with T,L & a whole lotta C can become David. Besides, what, to me is David, is to someone else primitive Gay Porn. And lets face it, we’re no Venuses either (at least I’m not. I’m more Rubenesque, but let’s not mix art forms here). When you’re a couple, I guess that’s what you do; you subconsciously sculpt each other into the person they are today.

I’m a daughter, a wife and now a mother, and I now know the task that lies ahead of me with Pickwick. It’s not my job to sculpt David. I just have to make sure there’s enough in the block of marble to let someone else see a potential David in him.