Tales of Domestic Bliss
Random Moments
Monday and Thursday nights, unless he is working, the man of the house is transfixed in front of the tube watching wrestling.
I love him anyway.
I wait for a commercial break and then pop over between him and the tube and do a little booty-shake-dance-thing, followed by a curtsy. He rolls his eyes and laughs, at the very least repaying me with a huge smile.
When I get flustered about whatever the problem of the week/day is, the same guy throws his big arms around me and strokes my hair, promising that things will be okay and that he loves me.
Moments like that make me forget that the trash is piling up and that someone made me clean up the dog barf last time.
(update: I have been helping the big lug revive his Xanga site tonight. Go check him out.)
I made you do no such thing, you volunteered and I was late for work. NOW I see what you have been saying about me. To think, all this time I have led a blissfully ignorant existance….
And you put the trash there.
Margarine not butter babe-
lol Now that’s love
Wow…dog barf. That is nasty. Almost as bad as wrestling…
I must warn you about something. If you want MY pills…you’ll have to cope with the visual of me red and puffy with big blobs of snot running down my face. It ain’t pretty but I’m willing to do it so that you can have your disco-trips.
Nyz xo
Sounds like what me and my man have.
Awwwwww,
aaaaaawwwwww! (and not in a snarky way)
p.s. Frieda kicks butt.