My last dinner at home before I leave for 12 looooong days.
You would think I’d want a home cooked meal, but all I want is sushi, wine, a fire in the fireplace, and Midnight In Paris on the tv…and a whole lot of Natalie on the side.
Lush.
Cynic.
One-womanizer.
Living in Portland after a much needed
escape from the Midwest.
*my wife and I live in a floating house, so there are a lot of beers on the dock and such (and NO, wife is not just a term of endearment).
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It’s 9:33pm on a Friday night.
We made tacos for dinner.
We had a few cocktails.
And now we’re snuggled into bed watching The Princess Bride because it is not cemented into my wife’s brain anywhere close to the amount it is in mine.
Also she has requested more exposure to all things Andre The Giant so that she can work on her (horrible yet adorable) impression of him.
Also we both have to work in the morning so we need to get our cuddle on.
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[Flash 10 is required to watch video]
Last night for bedtime relaxation Natalie read me the 25 best auto corrects . This was towards the end and she was laughing so hard she could barely get the words out. As for me, I had to keep getting up and going to the bathroom because I was convinced I was about to pee the bed.
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And now we’re having drinks and listening to NPR through the rabbit ears on our TV.
Because we’re old.
And we’re lesbians.
And these are our golden years…and by “golden” I mean before we have kids.
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Proof that we are officially old.
It’s our last day of mini vacation.
It’s 10:53am.
We just finished eating crumpets in bed.
And now we’re watching a documentary on the Titanic while we play with our respective electronic devices and marvel at our adorable cat.
And yes, watching a show about a sinking ship while in a floating hose SHOULD be unsettling…don’t worry, we have life jackets.
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Important post for those of you who think being a lesbian is like a lifelong slumber party with sex:
Oh wait…
Well, really…who am I kidding…it’s exactly like a slumber party, but instead of painting each others nails we have gay sex and watch our favorite TV series.
Also there’s giggling, jammies, and a whole lot of over the shirt boob grabbing.
And instead of talking about boys we talk about our cat…and instead of sneaking out, we got to bed at 9pm and spoon like crazy.
So there’s that.
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This clip is relevant to the evening I’m about to have with my wife.
We have a BIG night planned.
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I sent Natalie on a mission to pick up some new dinner napkins…this is how she shared her color choice with me. She’s so prim and proper.
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This usually gets the point across.
Instead of walking in the house and lecturing me about my inability to lock the front door, my wife takes the high road and comes in then creepily whispers “I’m here to murder you”.
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Me:
What options do we have to watch tonight?
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Natalie:
It's either Mad Men or True Blood.
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Me:
How dare you make me choose between my children!?
The Sophie's Choice of Our Sunday Night:
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