About four years ago I found myself in a difficult position. I was separated with no chance of reconciliation, and I was a full-time mom with a full-time job.

I wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity of wanting a date, and frankly, I don’t know that I would have remembered how to act if I went on one.

But as the separation turned into a divorce I began to wonder what was out there if, and only if, I decided I was ready to move forward. So like many others, I turned to the Internet for the answer.

Dating websites. Now there’s a scary thought. But I decided I’d log on and take a look, and then I’d try and get up enough courage to take the plunge.

Well the look was all I needed. No way. Not this girl.

No eligible men in my area? Absolutely there were, according to the Internet. But do you know not one of them described a real person as their perfect date? And worse, not one of them was looking for a girl like me.

They all wanted tall, blonde and thin or petite, athletic and brunette. They wanted women who wanted to travel to exotic lands, dine and dance the night away, stroll through the park under the moonlight.

Get real. Who has time for all that stuff?

If my perfect match had been there, I would have seen stuff he was looking for like:

• Not too overweight but OK if you didn’t get your shape back after having a baby;

• Considers a perfect fall date a Friday night at a high school football game, a Saturday at Tiger Stadium or a Sunday in front of the television watching the Saints;

• Doesn’t have a foul mouth usually, but OK if it’s at one of the aforementioned sporting events;

• Doesn’t dump her kid off with a babysitter night after night just to have a personal life;

• Speaks her mind even if it gets her in trouble (or, has a mind and isn’t afraid to use it);

• Loves walks on the beach but realizes someone has to watch the kids;

• Loves cutting grass just because she doesn’t have to think about anything but the next turn;

• Loves to read trashy novels, hates the History Channel and loves fast food;

• And my personal favorite, likes wine tasting but is satisfied if the event is held in the back yard, the wine is out of a box and kids are jumping in and out of the pool and running wild in the moonlight.

Wow! Can you believe no one admitted they were looking for those things in a date?

I’ve laughed with friends in the few years since over the descriptions posted of the perfect date. And every now and then, when I’ve had a really tough day, I’ve gone back and visited the sites just for the humor.

Recently I noticed many of the postings have become more realistic. Not totally real, mind you, just more realistic. So I’ve been going back to visit less and less; I just wasn’t laughing as much.

Thursday, however, was one of those days I needed that something extra. I needed a good laugh, so I logged on, hoping by chance some new guy seeking super model No. 3 had signed up.

I’m so glad I did. I laughed harder than I have in a while, not because this one particular man was seeking Barbie, but because of the honesty he used in describing himself.

He wrote: “I don’t skydive, nor do I ride a horse bareback on the beach, travel to exotic places (well maybe sometimes)…but I do wash clothes, do homework with kids, school projects, go to every sporting event that they’re involved with and last but not least cook the best Hot Pocket anyone ever tasted.”

Honesty? Who uses that on an Internet dating website? But how could this have been anything but honest?

It took four years of going back to those Internet dating websites to find it. But finally, this week, it was there. Normalcy. Thank you, God, for normalcy.

Sandy Cunningham is publisher of L’Observateur. She can be reached at sandy.cunningham@wickcommunications.com