I can’t get a break.
I mean, I know I’m exceedingly lucky to have found such a great husband. He doesn’t need me to be anything different than what I am. He loves me unconditionally.
It’a good thing, because I couldn’t be cool if you paid me. In fact, I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time embarrassing myself.
Take, for instance, last night. We were going through bedtime routines. I was lying on my stomach, in bed with a book, and he was in the connected bathroom, brushing his teeth. I was wearing a cute little nightshirt.
And by cute little nightshirt, I mean a 3X t-shirt with coffee stains on it.
But if you looked at it with your eyes closed, it was cute. Just go with me on this.
Anyways, I was lying there, innocently enough.
And over in the bathroom was My Captain…. Good God Almighty, was he handsome: shirtless, brushing his teeth in the mirror, muscles relaxed but still prominent. *** sigh*** I was counting my lucky stars, sending up prayers of gratitude, saying Hail Mary’s, even though I am not Catholic and don’t even know what they are….
…when I felt that all too familiar feeling.
It was definitely coming. There was no stopping it.
All I could do was engage the silencer and hope for the best.
Sadly for all involved, all the silencer did was draw it out longer and, strangely, in many and varied-pitched intervals. Almost like a trombone with a slide. Yes, that is a pretty accurate analogy. My butt sounded like an old rag/jazz musician going to town on his trombone slide. It was all over the place. I mean, there were tones reverberating that could not be easily defined on any musical scale.
I sheepishly peeked over to the bathroom. My Captain had frozen mid-floss and was staring at me in the mirror incredulously.
“That sounded like a game show sound effect, honey. That’s a new one, even for you.”
I reached up and tugged the ceiling fan chain to turn it on.
I don’t need to be a sex symbol. I don’t need to be popular. But I DO wish I could at least be NOT disgusting. Let’s face it though, My Captain is stuck with a farting machine.
Is it me, or are an abnormally large percentage of my posts about farting?