A while ago I was complaining to my mom about how this guy who was interested in me wasn't my type. He was lighter and with lighter hair, and he didn't seem to have a very big personality, which I tend to like.
She said something that really stuck with me. She said, "Honey, you don't know what your type is. Only God knows your type." And I was a little offended. I said, "No, I know exactly what my type is. I like tall, big, tan guys, with dark hair, nice smiles, and light eyes. And Mom, this guy is not that!"
She then told me she didn't think my dad was her type. Thirty years later it's pretty obvious he is indeed.
I mean, obviously a "type" is not a hard and fast rule. It's just a set of preferences based on Jude Law. Kidding. Well, about the Jude Law part.
It makes me think of that (super-cheesy) Garth Brooks song that goes, "Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers." It talks about how this guy is so glad he ended up with his wife instead of the now-aging floozy who was the high school flame he had dreamed of for years.
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