I turned to Tim this morning and said straight out, "I need to have sex; I need someone to put his hands and mouth on my body..." and then I waited. Nothing, no response but a smirk. So I added, "What's it gonna take?" and he laughed and said, "500 bucks?" and then I laughed. As he was leaving for work I yelled out, "I'm serious" and he yelled back while continuing to laugh, "Okay, good luck with that." Bastard. Well, it was kind of funny, but you know what, I'm getting sick and tired of that man playing hard to get. We both know he's easy so I just don't get the game playing; his acting like a teenage girl who I have to flirt with and coddle and PAY? Where's my copy of the marriage contract, I have rights too you know...
I like to mess with Tim because he takes it well and because he's smart and funny and he always seems to come back with something that makes me laugh or that really pisses me off and, honestly, I like both of those results. I won't tell him that, but he's my husband, there are so many things already that he doesn't know, why start telling him things now. It will only confuse him. I'd like to say that I have a theme for this particular lavaload of words that is rushing out of my head, but I don't. I thought that I'd just randomly "spew" ideas; that does not sound good, not at all so I am definitely going to leave it in.
I think it is rare when you can find someone with whom you have a real connection and I'm not talking about Tim now; I'm talking about more of a friend, more of a friendship that bends itself to your will but which also tests you at the same time. I am a firm believer in the kind of Karma that twists itself around and which puts people in one another's paths and I definitely believe that people come into my life for reasons that I cannot begin to explain. And, if I say that I just sense it, well, that will sound too Psychic Network so I'll just say that I believe it and leave it at that. For instance, the students in my classes; most of them are there because the time slot allowed them to be there, but every so often, there are one or two who happen to end up in there because of some ill fated computer error or because of an alternative scheduling issue and sometimes, not always, but sometimes, there is a reason that they are in my class and not someone else's. The sad part is that I don't always recognize when that is the case, but every so often I do and it cements it all together: me, them, a purpose, even if it is only a brief encounter...
Boys, it's like raising boys. Why am I living in a house of penises? I know, cheap trick, but you're listening now or staying with me for a minute. Even the cats are male and the bearded dragon. It's just Riley, the dog and me and if you think that you are being original by thinking, well at least she's got another bitch to hang out with then you can just forget it; been there, heard that. So, Riley and I try to hold it together amidst the fog of caveman like odor and aura that permeates our household. And don't get me wrong, I like men; rugged, strong, sweaty, athletic, among other things, but I digress. What I don't like are sweaty soccer socks stuffed into bedsheets and yogurt containers that are left at the bottom of a hamper or half starved animals who sit at the dinner table and eat like they've never had a meal before and when you ask them a question, they just grunt. Yeah, well same to you Porky. Cultivating manners and dinner conversation with boys who are 13, 11 and 4 respectively well, let's just say that sometimes I feel like ramming the fork into my right eye instead of carrying on a conversation with any of them.
I pointed to Tim before he went to sleep tonight and I said, "You are going out on a date this weekend" and he smiled and asked, "With who?" Laughter on that one, "You are taking me out on a date this weekend and we are going to end up in the backseat of the car or at a hotel" "Really?" he raised his eyebrows and I winked at him mysteriously. He said, "Hmmm" and rolled over. I waited, it couldn't be that simple, "Yvette, we don't really have money for a hotel room right now" You can see me rolling my eyes in defeat right then can't you? "Okay, backseat it is then" and he laughed. My husband of 17 years laughed once again even though I really wasn't kidding, not about this.
I wish I understood them more or even half the time. I wish I had more patience for when they start whaling on each other. I wish that, just once, one of them would sit down and color with me or actually want to read a story. Raising boys is like praying for rain in a drought... you just don't know what the outcome will be and even if you did, you can't guarantee that everything will turn out okay. Maybe that could be said for girls too, but I'll bet you that it wouldn't smell nearly as bad... Sheesh.
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