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Life is good this beautiful Thursday morning. I just had two egg and potato breakfast tacos with a side of chocolate chip cookies. My house is now officially packed with road trip goodies. In three more hours, I’m heading to the beach!
My lover has been talking to me in questions. In the beginning it was charming, like he needed me or wanted my opinion but today, it annoys the hell out of me. Let me give you an example. It starts from when he gets.
“Do you think I should make the coffee?” The problem with this one is that everyday he makes the coffee so he should just do it and stops bugging me.
The second one is usually in the realm of finding stuff for him like, “Have you seen my watch?” Or “Where’s my wallet?” On a good day, I’ll actually stop what I’m doing and help him but just because I’m organized doesn’t mean I like organizing other adults. Put it in the same spot everyday when you walk home and you won’t have this problem! This lecture still hasn’t worked after 10 years so I give up. If that isn’t bad enough, the questions also leak into our bedroom. “Can I go down on you?” “Did you like that?” “You know how much I love you, don't you?" See my problem?
Whew, forgive me but that felt good.
Party, wine, laughter, eyes, flattery, hall, bedroom, lips, neck, bite, knock, caught, stare, embarrass, join, moan, pull, tongue, more, done, introductions, exit, appetizers.
I took my son to see a play based off of a book called Chocolate Fever. The premise behind the book is that this kid eats too much chocolate and gets sick. I love a play that does the parenting for me. Anyway, before the show started they had a screen flashing chocolate trivia. Basically, they took twelve candy bars, cut them in half so you could see the gooey centers and guess which type of candy bar they were. For me, the novelty wore off quite quickly and left me hungry but for the fuckwit next to me, he was actually trying to impress everyone with his candy knowledge. There’s one in every crowd only this one was sitting next to me. He’d guess out loud and then look over at me as if to say, “See how manly I am!” I glared at him but that seemed to just confirm his suspicions that he was the smartest man in the room because he got louder and more annoying. The last one he got wrong. “Damnit, I thought it was a Kit Kat!” he exclaimed. A man proving himself over chocolate trivia is a sad, sad sight.
The room was filled with beauty. Everywhere I turned there was an open mouth with its curled tongue begging me to come closer. I wanted to touch because I knew it was forbidden. “Orchids like to be loosely bound.” She said. Remembering his hand over my mouth last night, I agreed.
I’m not a cat woman, especially when they feel superior to me. There is one in particular that keeps trying to sneak inside my house. One time I was working at my desk when I realized he was under my chair, looking satisfied. I began to plot my revenge; trap him and call animal control. The next day, I spot him so I head outside with my laundry basket. Within minutes he’s under the basket while I’m screaming “Get a brick!” That sneaky fur ball starts fighting for his life and before I know it, the laundry basket is running around in circles while I’m screaming for my life. I was afraid he’d leap towards my head and claw my eyes out. I know it’s irrational but my adrenaline was pumping. Anyway, I hate to loose so I pile drive the basket missing him by an inch. He escaped.
Anyway, two days later, I notice the lid was off of our sandbox. Thinking that was odd, I take a closer look. That cat must have rounded up all his furry friends to get revenge on my family because I spent the next hour shoveling out 300 pounds of soiled sand while gagging. I began to fear my neighbors thinking I was bulimic.
It took a month but I convinced my husband to fill it up again. Only now we’re constantly on cat patrol. Last night I peeked out the window gasping in horror at the sight of a coverless sandbox. In fear of another attack, I make my husband go outside and cover it. I know its 2am but I won’t let the neighborhood bully get me again. He shuffles out there while I watch. Trying not to giggle, I open the window and “meow” ever so slightly. He rushes back inside saying, “I heard that cat. He must have been watching me.” “Yeah, it’s a good thing you covered it.”
Dear Purple Blog,
Hi, I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for abandoning you. Towards the end of our relationship you just changed. You weren't the blog I used to know. You started nagging me to give you attention and to love you more but I just couldn't. There was a lot going on in my life so I thought we should just take a break but I kept thinking about you. I'm sorry I lead you to believe I was just yours but I have to be honest and tell you I flirted with other blogs. No, I never cheated but I wasn't truly committed in the end so I'm partly to blame. Can I have another chance? I promise it'll be different this time. We'll start from scratch, no more bells and whistles, not just because my digital camera is broken but because I want this to work. I missed you. Would you give me another chance?
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