The other day my son asked me what "sexy" means.
After retrieving my jaw from my lap, I sputtered out some jargon about how it means "beautiful" but not in a very nice way and that it really isn't something we should be saying. By the time I reached the end of my muddled definition, his attention had already wandered and he was crawling around on the floor in search of the perfect Lego piece to add to his ship.
I don't know if he even gave it any further thought, but I sure did.
Hmm...What does sexy mean?
I mean there's the obvious definition that the world gives us in every song, picture, movie, TV commercial, magazine, billboard, etc.
Big boobs. Big booties. Big hair.
Big big big and tiny tiny tiny.
Tiny waists. Tiny eyebrows. Tiny clothes. Tiny appetites.
Rippling pecs. Ripping bodices.
Fast. Fast cars. Fast relationships. Fast money.
Bright colors and shades of grey.
And everything in between.
According to the dictionary...
1. concerned predominantly or excessively with sex; risqué: a sexy novel.
2. sexually interesting or exciting; radiating sexuality: the sexiest professor on campus.
3. excitingly appealing; glamorous: a sexy new car.
None of the above is how I would define "sexy" because this is what I found to be "sexy" last week....
I went searching for my missing husband to find him in the cold garage, in his coveralls, covered in grease and oil, devoting his Saturday, his one free day, to fixing our one working vehicle.
Using his hands, time, knowledge, and skills to save us money and keep our old minivan going a few more miles.
Now that's sexy.
Eat your heart out, Channing Tatum.