Wednesday, November 12, 2003

Warm and sweet


Dirty Boy is sitting here right now being sweet to me. By that I guess i kind of mean he's not being ANNOYING which is a weird way to define goodness but you take what you can get, right? Anyway, I bring this up because we are discussing his NEW JOB so I suppose Congratulations are in order! Our beautiful little skateboarding child will be one of those fabulous few who call you while you're trying to eat supper and attempt to harrangue you into purchasing tickets to the police officer's ball. Note: He is not a police officer. He is not even close. So, if for any reason, you feel the need to hang up on him (and his cold-calling friends) but think perhaps you ought not because he IS the LAW after all -- no worries! Disconnect at will! Just don't be all mean about it since it's just a freaking job and it's not like he's intentionally trying to ruin your life.

You know another thing I realized about DB (since he's sitting on the floor in front of me watching Hedwig I feel compelled to write about him -- mostly because he's not going to realize it until he gets to school and checks the site, hee hee) is that he's got two modes: Annoying, arrogant, filthy mouthed, skater boy who could not freaking catch a clue if his life depended on it and sweet, adorable, really quite smart skater boy who catches far more clues than he lets on... But the thing is these modes, they can switch in the blink of an eye. It's disconcerting I tell ya...!

Case in point, he shows up a little while ago; let's himself in (I know! Why give a degenerate the key to your house? Do NOT think I haven't had that exact thought many a time....!) and after helping himself to some tasties from the fridge decides he needs to find out what I'm doing. I (for those of you who like details) am taking a shower. A nice long shower. The kind of shower that goes on for hours because you've basically decided to blow off the seminar you're auditing in favor of doing some real work that you need to finish by the end of the month and which, all things considered, you're kind of on a roll with and since you're on a roll, why not indulge a little and take some time out to stand under a warm, pulsing showerhead for the better part of an hour... So, DB figures out that it's probably not the cat using all that water and decides to not just enter the bathroom but to actually go ahead and make himself comfortable (having a little sit-down, flipping through a magazine) so, I being gracious despite the fact that I am being MASSIVELY inconvienienced ask in as polite as possible a way what the hell he's doing here, in my town, in my house, and in my bathroom. Then realizing I really don't care, i ask (again, in as polite a tone as it's possible for the human voice to register) if perhaps he wouldn't mind getting the hell out so that I may continue my bathe. Instead of replying to this absolutely reasonable and measured request he instead replies "Come out. I'll dry you off."

Now. I think we all know a little of the history twixt the two of us and as we are also all well aware of the fact that I have given up young boys for Lent I think it comes as no surprise to anyone that I replied with a curt "Hell, no!" followed up with what seemed a fairly simple directive "Go do something! Go in the living room. Watch a movie or something. i've got stuff I have to do." (The voice may have trailed into a bit of a whine during that last bit but I would humbly ask that my readership consider that the stream of water was getting a bit cold). "C'mon" quoth he (Quick note: there's this whole thing I do where I completely ignore the tiny voices screaming in my head and just do whatever it is I'm asked. I know. I'm working on it.) So, I say "O.K." and step out into the FREEZING-NESS that is my now cramped bathroom and allow Mr. DB to actually dry me off. With a nice fluffy towel. And you know what? It felt really good! He got all the crevices and stuff but didn't try to get frisky even once. Up one leg and down the other. Pat, pat, pat. ruffled through the hair; inside the ears; turn around so he can do the back... I don't think I've ever been so thoroughly dried...! All the while with this serious, frowney look on his face. Then, towel folded and draped over drying rack. Bathrobe offered, he picks up his magazine and wanders out into living room to flop down on couch. It's times like these when I realize that I'd marry him if he asked. So, feeling fresh and glowing and loved I finish up in the bathroom with some of the detail work before wandering out to join him in the living room only to be greeted by a grinning, sprawling discusting boy pointing happily to a certain suddenly prominent body part and inquiring whether or not I feel like "taking care of it"! EEEEEEWWWWWWW!!!!!! What the hell is wrong with boys???! Sorry, with some boys.... No. Not even "some" boys, ALL boys. What is it that all boys are really some twisted combination of split personalities and that those personalities are usually completely opposite? Anyways. I threw my pen at him and told him to get the hell out of my house since I have to work. He, of course, took this to mean "Stay. watch a movie!" and for the last little bit has been sitting cross-legged in front of the TV having some yogurt. {sigh}

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