Adorable or what?

On the phone, late at night:

“Let me know you got home safely, yes?”

Audible yet affectionate sigh and eye-roll

**********************neurotic romance

In the inbox the following morning:

I’m home. Safe and sound.



He’s used to this. He knows that I can make a worry of something essentially unworrying. Why would he not arrive safely? He does the (unusually long) drive home from A to B twice a week, and has done for years.

I just like to know he’s still in one piece. Call me crazy, but I like him in one piece. He does things to me that make me yowl and purr specifically by virtue of him being in one piece. Call it protecting an investment — non-financial, but still.

So I care. So sue me.

The thing is, he knows me. He knows how i think and he knows how I cannot help but worry. It’s inbuilt and inbred neuroses that will not go away just because he or anyone else says “Don’t worry.”

So i responded:

One of the sexiest things about you is that you completely understand my neuroses, and allow me to have them without feeling like a freak. As a result, I want you more than I did before. Get over here, and let me blow your mind.

To which he said:

You say the sweetest things that only make me drip more for you…

Adorable or what?


In the shower

In the shower, cooling off.

He: Let me do your back.

Me: (Appreciative murmurs)

He: OK, now i want you to pee.

Me: Huh?

He: Go on, pee!

Me: Er… watersports was never discussed, and I’m not into it!

He: No, silly. You’ve just had a lot of sex. A LOT. You need to pee, now — it’s a health thing.

Me: (Feeling somewhat foolish.) Oh.

He: Don’t be so reserved and British. This is not watersports. It’s not like I haven’t already seen a wealth of bodily fluids from you — nor you me.

Me: True.

He: Go on then!

Me: Shh. You’re making it crawl back up.

He: (Suppressed giggle.)

Me: There. Only had a little. Oh no wait… (short pause) there! Done it.

He: Attagirl.

Me: I’m so blogging this.