Tuesday, February 1, 2011

I like my imp

The aggravation of animals has turned me into a raging savage today.  Sometimes, 6 animals is a bit much, to say the least.

There's barking of alert to let me know there's someone at the door, whom I'm already speaking to.

Yes my fuzzy fiends, I already know he's here.  With my biggest boy voice I yell, "ZIP IT UP!!!"  I'm just as loud as the barking.  The electrician looks at me as if I'm worse than the four legged critters.

Then there's me returning to my table to find the most atrocious of cats, and yet somehow my favourite, eating my breakfast, "GET THE HELL OFF THERE YOU MANGY BEAST!"

Finally, there's me sitting at the table, trying my damnedest to get to my morning purge of emotions, but there's a one eyed retriever attempting to be a lap dog.  I suppose if you're surrounded by short beings like he is, you'd think you're a small varmint too.

But he's not.

"Please, remove your drooling muzzle from my pajama clad lap."  I'm a little more calm with this one.  He's a bit of a gentle giant.

Now that patience has taken the place of intolerance, it's time to get to me.

Me?

I'm feeling pretty good all in all.

My love was talking about the hysterectomy yesterday and I was able to speak about that part of the male transformation as flippantly as Papi, as the selfish teenager gives me permission.  Somehow it's ok, because it may cause cancer in that encasing of eggs and tubes.

When my love gets this surgery, it becomes mandatory that the hormones be used as replacement of this organ.

We have a friend who has to do this.  It seems that my brain can accept these hormones when they're for the sake of health, but if Papi is using them to look more manly, I feel nauseas.

Well my imaginary friend, here's where the imp in me gets her moment.  Here's where I get to snicker like Snagglepuss with an air of, "Hey, it's not my choice that you're putting that poison in your body."

You see, one of the rules is, I don't want to know about the hormones being used.  I don't want to see or hear about it.  I don't even want so much as an utter that my love is doing/done it on that day.

It's just a rule I have to help me get through this, and Papi has a hard time not saying anything, as it's very difficult for my love to do this alone, not to mention my love has difficulty not being transparent.

It hurts mi esposo, and Papi is not good with pain or needles.  But no matter ... it's a rule.

So ...

My love was removing an island in the basement to make room for our new cabinets.  Papi's jeans were covered in sawdust and I asked if sweety wanted to remove them (**enter porn music here**) so that I could throw them in the wash.

Papi bent over to pull those jeans to the ground and exposed that round, beautiful ass cheek.  It was so perfectly placed in my space.

How could I not give it a playful smack?

Of course I did!  It rang with a sharp echo throughout the empty basement.  Great acoustics!

... and I looked at my love, only to see Papi's face turn into a very serious frown.

"Honey ... "

I knew, without anything more than that one word, that this was the orb that my love had chosen to prick that pain of hideous poison into.

I couldn't help but cackle all the way to the washer with hand over mouth, chuckle as I added soap, and scurry up the stairs with a lightness in my step.

I giggled all the way to the living room, and the teenager had her moment of, "That's what'cha get big boy!"

I smiled with a face of defeat for a good 10 minutes.  

Terrible aren't I?

:)

It's how I deal.

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