The Lottery
Tonight it didn't rain on me when I walked home from work. I came in the door, greeted my squalling cat, did my taxes during Entertainment Tonight, and waited for the phone to ring. Simon called after his spinning class and in forty-five minutes he was coming through the front door with gyros and a sack of fries as big as my head, and he was wearing the yellow sweatshirt I'm always stealing from him. He was mumbling what will turn out to be an alternate final verse to "All My Exes Live in Texas" (his newest band assignment) although I'm not allowed to hear it until they play in public because it's a surprise).
We watched Gilmore Girls, he strummed the Gibson along with the commercials, and Eve rubbed her nose on his knees and fingers and tried to eat his ear a little. I put on p.j. pants, fluffed the cowl of my turtleneck, and head-butted my boy every three minutes because he was there and oh so lovable.
We woke up at 6:30 a.m. this morning and it nearly killed me, I tell you, but he made me a mug of tea for the train (P. G. Tips from England and extra sugar as per usual), and it all turned out okay despite X, Y, and ze bitch on ze BART train who tried to steal my seat. I got so much done in the office I stayed an hour late, high on my own sense of accomplishment and maybe a little strung out on those two pieces of birthday carrot cake consumed at 3:10 and 3:15 p.m.
Now it's late and he's in the shower--washing his face, scrubbing his pits--and in five minutes he'll emerge from the bathroom with fuzzy koala hair and Winter Fresh breath. My feet feel fine now, but as soon as I get in bed they'll turn icy and I'll beg him to let me shove them between his thighs, hot like a panini press. He'll acquiesce as long as I keep my freezing fingertips off of his toasty belly. I will mostly behave myself.
We'll talk way past bedtime. We'll change sleeping positions nine times before finding ones that work. We'll know precisely, to the letter, to the milimeter, to infinity, just exactly what it is we've got here.
I couldn't help myself, but at the end I had to blurt out, "awwwwww...." Precious. Y'all are too precious!
Awww, how sweet.
It kills ME that you got to sleep in till 6:30 AM!
It's a good thing you two are so adorable or I'd have to bleeeeh at all the happiness.
A perfect existence, I must say. A lot of people win the lottery of life (how's that for a cheesy cliche?) but don't even realize it until they've squandered their resources. Good for you for seeing how wonderful each moment with your man truly is.
Sounds like a perfect day to me :)
I love it. (I also love koala bear hair.)
I swear that sometimes, we are the same person. My feet and hands are freezing almost all the time and I LOVE warming them up between the toasty-roasty-ness of boy thighs and on their bellies too!
Oooh I love warming up cold feet on my boy...he squirms for the first 10 seconds but if you clamp them down strong enough eventually he just has to give in and deal...I figure I earned that privilege as a direct result of 3 years of his doona hogging :)