The other morning, J. was out of the shower and rushing around, getting ready for work, just like he does every morning. And I was doing what I do every morning, sleeping. There, the secret is out: I am a night owl, and the earliest I go to bed is 1 a.m. That's early. Usually, I am closer to a three ay-am girl. Consequently, I sleep until at least 8:30 in the morning. So I was just waking up as J walked into the bedroom, announcing:
bye honey, I'm headed to work.
I rolled over and cat-stretched luxuriously:
"Whee! Work!
He glared at me, more mock-glare than anything else, and arched an eyebrow.
"Do you wanna go to work?
Thinking of blessed freedom, interaction with adults all day, not dealing with tantrums and cajoling little people to do things they don't want to do or running around picking up after them, I was probably a bit too enthusiastic.
"Uh huh, uh huh!"J rolled his eyes.
"Ok then, you go to work, I'll stay home."I shot back with:
"Works for me! ...I'm goin' to wo-oork, I'm goin' to wo-oork!" ...Wait, do I have to wear pants there?"I could tell he was laughing at me, inside, where it counts.
"Yeah, they kind of frown on you if you don't wear pants."Now I could gloat. After all, I was just getting up and he was headed an hour and a half away to work. (I know, right? Crazy, but that's his commute... )
"I don't have to wear pants at work. Just typee, typee, on the keyboard."
He grinned sardonically.
"Hmmm, I better leave that comment alone, it's too easy."Me: busy realizing where this conversation has gone (where most of them go around here, the gutter)"Apparently, so am I."There went that eyebrow arch again.
"Oh really, then why am I going to work?"I closed in the for the kill.
"So you can buy me things and I'll sleep with you. I'm good that way."Flashed him my best come-hither stare, followed by a big, goofy grin...
He kind of choked a bit as I waggled my eyebrows at him.
"Annnnd I definitely need to leave that comment alone and walk out the door while I still can."After almost twenty years, I still have that boy right where I want him, friends. This hot mama says so.
T, For the Win
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7 sent chocolate:
You and me kid, we have scored the right men, and it's a darn good thing for all concerned.
Here! Here!... Lenora
Yes, that is the best place for husbands to be...where we want them. Btw, I replied to your comment on my blog, but am not retyping it here if you wanna see. No big deal if not, but thanks for the book suggestion.
You need that great relationship with all that life has heaped on you. Lucky you! I too have a wonderful partner. We were happy for 26 blissful years - then we met :)
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You tell him T. We know you're really the one the that wears the "pants." Love the picture.
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Tina, some days when my DH was leaving for work and my teen was emotional and one of my two (or both!) was in the middle of a meltdown and the phone was ringing and something was burning on the stove and this was morning . . . I was supposed to be fresh and ready to face the madness of a new day home schooling a rollercoaster teen and two autistic boys . . . I'd hold the hug a little long and whisper, "Don't leave me here . . ."
Wow, you still flirt with your husband?? I offically suck. and, um, i'll still read your blog even though I'm trying not to deeply deeply envy you sleeping in... my kids start getting up before 6. and my husband is the one to lie in bed until 7:30. Bitter? Me? naaaahhhh.
and i agree with you. any job where you have to wear pants is no job for me. or shower. or wear make up. or panyhose. or shoes that are anything other than flip flops or tennis shoes. did i mention the need to forgo a shower? for like days?
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