The Checkout Blackout

I don't care who you are - man, woman, somewhere between the two - it's always nice to get checked out by a member of the opposite sex (or, you know, whichever gender you fancy). Even if it embarrasses you a little bit, inside you're secretly like, "Awww yeah. I still got it." It doesn't matter if you're married or otherwise romantically attached, because it isn't like getting checked out is gonna lead to the demise of your relationship (and if it does, there are some serious jealousy issues going on).

To be clear, I'm not talking about the gross kind of checking out. Like when it's not just a glance, but a slow and lecherous head-to-toe scan, perhaps with a "Daaaayum" thrown in for extra ickiness. Those kinds of checkouts leave you feeling like you should head for the nearest shower and scrub your skin raw with a loofah and then put on a turtleneck and a sweater. And grandma shoes.

The ones I like are the simple, no-frills, "I'm-looking-at-you-a-second-longer-than-normal-because-your-attractiveness-caught-my-eye" checkout. You know the type. The kind that buoys your self-esteem for a little bit, even if they were really just looking at you because you had a weird piece of hair sticking up. It's the kind of checkout I used to get all the time.

Key word here: used to get.

I can't tell y'all how long it's been since anyone close to my age has checked me out (the hundred-year-old man in line behind me at the grocery store the other day doesn't count). I don't get it. Yeah, I could stand to lose a couple of pounds, but I'm a pretty normal weight - it's not like I'm rolls-spilling-over-the-sides-of-a-motorized-scooter hefty. I have been wearing makeup. I've just had a haircut - I'm not rocking a 'fro or a crazy bouffant. I keep my eyebrows waxed ('cause if I don't, they look like mustaches growing in the wrong place). My face hasn't changed, it's still decently attractive. I don't get it.

Is it because I'm thirty? Is thirty, like, the magical age where no one checks you out any more unless you're displaying some major cleavage or something? Or does my general appearance just scream "mother of three?"

I know ... I should be self-confident enough not to care. And if you are, more power to you - but I like a little outside validation once in a while. Who's with me?