This morning I asked Pete “would you still want to be with me if I had a sex change?” His immediate response was “probably not.” He then asked me what made me think of this. My answer was that I think about a lot of things. And it’s true, many implausible and odd things cross my mind in the course of a given day.

I continued to think about this one. I didn’t elaborate, but as of late, I’ve been thinking about Bruce aka Bonnie Jennings, who recently said that he, who is now a she, is going to have himself transformed into a herself. In the 1970s, he was an Olympic decathlon champ – and was the featured athlete on the Wheaties cereal box. I recall eating Wheaties and looking at his picture. He was handsome, and I had a crush on him. In fact, he was so inspiring that I tried pole vaulting in my backyard, using the bamboo pole that came inside our new rug, and a pole laid across two trashcans. The pole snapped, and I came down hard, on my back. That was the end of that infatuation. Far better to imitate Olympic figure skater Peggy Fleming.

But imagine it – someone built like Adonis deciding that he wanted to be built like Donna. It would be hard to

give up a more than serviceable body. Sex changes are a good thing, but they don’t insure that after, you’ll look like a member of the opposite sex. Maybe those who have this done imagine that they do.

I got to thinking that if I had a sex change, and we stayed together, that we’d get more stuff done around here. I, for example, would put myself in charge of maintaining our fleet of falling apart vehicles. I’d also take on cleaning the chimney. Pete and I would then be like Batman and Robin – problem is, I’d remain the Boy Wonder, for Pete would want to continue to do those tasks that he’s always been doing. And I seriously doubt that my having a sex change would make me more handy with a drill bit or crescent wrench.

Maybe he should have The Operation – have silicone implants put in his chest and his do-wacky chopped off. He’d then be more womanly. Problem is, he’d want to do more cleaning and cooking. This is my domain, and I’d have a hard time sharing this role with my significant other. And if you believe what I have written in this paragraph, you don’t know us very well . . .

I said to Pete that I was surprised by his answer, which is that if I had a sex change that he might leave me. I then told him that if he had The Operation that I’d stick with him. I have no doubt in my mind about this. This is because I really believe that while externals are important – you know, it’s the ole plug and light socket analogy – I at the same time see internals as being even more important. There is so much about Pete that I love, for example his encyclopedic knowledge of music. (Right now he’s into surf music and this is really, really fun. I have always liked surf music but been afraid to say so because it’s not in vogue).

He also has a great sense of humor. And he’s quiet and calm when he’s around the animals. And I value his ability to get to the heart of an intellectual discussion. These aren’t things that would change if he came home one day as Pietra. At the same time, if such an operation made him happier, I’d encourage it.

Our conversation about the above subject was quite short. So I’m going to remain me, and Pete’s going to remain Pete. And I’ve already moved forward in my thinking. I knew that if I didn’t, that I’d belabor the same points ad infinitum. That’s unhealthy and not very productive.

The next thing to consider is, would Pete still love me if I changed my image – that is, get a full body tattoo, dye my hair purple and get multiple piercings? (Ouch.) This might be something to think more about. I would, if I did this, cease being a near invisible middle aged woman and instead be a compelling middle aged woman. Maybe I don’t have to take this to extremes. Earrings alone might do the trick.

Next: 67. 3/11/15: A Conversation with Hrimfara, Raudi, and Tinni