So Happy Together
By Patty Clark
For a couple of years after we met, my beau and I were consumed with yearning and ended each loving sentiment with, Be Mine. Then, every enthusiastic body membrane told us to move in together. You have no idea how great it feels to wake up every morning and know he’s mine, and I’m his meal maker, dirty underwear picker-upper, and lost items locater. Which could be totally misconstrued for relationship purgatory if taken the wrong way.
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For a couple of years after we met, my beau and I were consumed with yearning and ended each loving sentiment with, Be Mine.
Then, every enthusiastic body membrane told us to move in together. You have no idea how great it feels to wake up every morning and know he’s mine, and I’m his meal maker, dirty underwear picker-upper, and lost items locater. Which could be totally misconstrued for relationship purgatory if taken the wrong way.
A Love Story
The secret to our success is that my boyfriend sees my sagging figure every day and still gets excited.
And I call him lovenuts. This man would fight a bear for me. Not a grizzly however. More like a stuffed teddy, or a tiny spider. Sometimes I look at him and think he’s so darn good to me. He looks at me thinking damn, she’s one lucky gal. But every time he’s ready to embrace someone sexy as hell, I have to tap on the mirror and remind him that it’s just his reflection.
The Love Nest
I read somewhere that it’s really a terrible idea to dwell together.
I don’t know how they reached that silly conclusion. It’s simple. When the other person has their back turned, you can instantly resort to being a slob, a remote control stealer, and a farter. If you think a minute goes by fast, you’ve never stood in a love nest with a person that passes an enormous amount of bodily gasses.
My hunka burnin’ love smells more like a hunka burnin’ rubber when he lets one loose.
Diamonds used to be a girl’s best friend. That was before the garage was invented where a gal can go to get some alone time and fresh air. But I salute my man’s sensitivity when he takes the noxious intoxication to another room where he can release like a blast furnace. Although he needs to retreat to his man cave in say, Mars, when he’s eaten broccoli with cheese sauce.
The Man Cave
Look at Babe!
Consequently, I have invested in a few Air Wick freshmatics.
I could easily be categorized as an irritant myself when I have noises slithering simultaneously out of certain cavities. Apparently I snore. He says I sound like fifty snorting pigs with sinus infections. Some swine’s can be cute. Look at Babe! My loverboy hasn’t resorted to slaughtering me quite yet.
Cohabitation requires adjustments and we have to do nice things for each other to stay mentally attractive.
So we started random acts of lovingness like squeegeeing the shower glass door so the other one doesn’t have to. Then I take on the role as compulsory servant when he leaves those Lilliputian beard hairs that dot the bathroom sink daily.
There are sacrifices I’m willing to make, and it takes only a few seconds to wipe it clean.
But I figure anything I can do, he can do better if he tried. And come to find out, he’s allergic to the dishwasher. Some days I wake up and think yep, today’s the day I’m going to hide all the clean dishes, silverware, and the bathroom bowl. I also have my own penal code. Don’t miss the toilet. The only other two things I require is help with housework and basically make himself available for me at all times.
Big Bad Wolf
With a little effort, he could probably wash me as well so I wouldn’t have to bathe, if I just lay on the floor when he takes to mopping.
That chore would include slathering my body with scents that simulate a sexed up brothel. My big bad wolf wouldn’t be able to keep his paws off me. I can hear him now. “All the better to hug you with my dear.”
Feel the Love
Pails of Wine
I also take those generous strolls to the kitchen to fetch him pails of wine.
That’s not only dedication, but sweetness doesn’t cost a dang thing. It’s the vino that might put us in the poorhouse. He can certainly flash his bare behind at me anytime because my Moondoggie is the finest example of manhood. When my cataract ridden hunk returns home wearing lipstick smudges, I know not to worry. He likely left the house with my tube of Max Factor instead of his Blistex.
We stay fit for each other by eating salmon for dinner before sitting down with tubs of tapioca and watching episodes of Blue Bloods. Though we just watched A Fish Called Wanda, and I went to bed with a hankering for cod and Kevin Kline.
We share our deepest emotions, which are usually hungry and tired.
So it is sometimes hard transforming our couch into a magical island of sexual intimacy. Sweating and groaning occurs more when I’m facing the open fridge and the last cola is gone. But my caffeinated honeykins has the humility to repent and replenish since he strives to take special care of me. Unlike my nine swiping siblings while growing up.
Envision a desperate soldieress with a weapon yielding yardstick racing after a battalion of bottle swappers as they scatter like pigeons.
My childhood didn’t do much to equip me for future battles. A fog of worry washed over me that my boyfriend may monopolize everything and I might have to be armed, or label things with It be mine. Yet I don’t worry about him hogging the bedcovers since they came out with the California king. What a fitting name. If my man is the king of the castle, I must be his dirty rascal.
Feel the Love
Nine Out of Ten
I should probably keep my mouth zipped and wait for those precious moments when my man wants to open up and talk.
I could test one of those Cupid arrows to see if he responds, but spouses can become miffed when a significant other argues or doesn’t listen carefully. Researchers say that nine out of ten boyfriends agree that their girlfriends are right.
In the Mood
Unfortunately the tenth one hasn’t been seen since the survey was conducted.
I don’t stop arguing because he’s won. I stop arguing because I’d rather walk away and be right somewhere else. Sometimes it’s more fun doing animal faces. If my honey is not in a mood for merriment, it’s easier just to leave him a note that he can ponder. Who ate your sunny side eggs this morning mister thunderstorm? Though I have to ask myself if I was too much of a chatterbox, snide, or smart-alecky.
Knowing him, he’d say, “You’ve already brightened my day. What do I need sunlight for?”
Play the Game
I have come to realize that boob fondling can brighten any man’s day and overthrow a disagreement. I’ve also learned that anything I say will only be inadmissible in a court of basketball. I know better than to speak during the fourth quarter.
I will take exceptional care of my Valentine when he’s older and possibly hard to live with by adding liquor to his morning coffee.
But he’s mine, and I can’t see me loving nobody but him for all my life. Besides, we both feel we’ve met our match. It was important for him to find someone who won’t nag or force him to take his Metamucil. I conceal it inside his meat loaf. It was crucial for me finding someone who approves all the ridiculousness I write. And he does.
Except that I just heard him toot again.
He told me that he likes to live up to his reputation.