Envy

There is a steady stream of atleast one person a month who says she is envious of me. The latest episode happened yesterday. I was sitting on the park bench, enjoying a nice breeze and a completely useless, except in the junk food sense, mills and boon variety novel. Totally lost in the devilishly handsome rake, I didn't notice the woman who had paused to sit down next to me till her little baby started bawling. I gave her a polite smile and told her the baby was cute - it is mandatory - otherwise you are public enemy number one - and asked how old he was. She told me he was four months old and then without a pause, with a great big sigh, informed me she was completely envious of me. "Oh you are enjoying a novel. It is so long since I have finished a book". This has happened so often now, that I am beginning to realize I must be leading a wonderful life after all. Interestingly, no man has yet told me he is envious of me.