Random Esquire

Besos came over last night.  I made dinner.  Nothing exciting – sandwiches on just baked french bread.  Some balsamic, olive oil, turkey, cheese, tomato, spices, etc.  Back in the oven.  We had some salads with it.  I made a sandwich for her to take to work today.  I said to her, “I learned to cook because I had to – because I was a bachelor.  But once I’m done wooing you and we’re married, I’m not going to cook anymore. ”

She looked at me, mouth full.  Smartly, she ignored me.  Besides, she knows I dig cooking.

This morning, I packed up a bag of these baked chips she likes from Trader Joe’s.  As she left to head to work, I said, “Do you have your sandwich?”  She nodded.  I said, “Yogurt?”  (She likes these yogurt drink things.)  She said, “Yup.”  I saw the chips in her hand.  I said, “Okay.”

She looked at me and said, “That was very wifey.”

I said, “I’m not afraid of my softer, feminine side.”

She laughed.  I said, “now shake your ass down the hall.”  Okay…so, some mornings, when Besos leaves my place, I stand in my doorway and call out (as she walks down the hall), “Wiggle it!  Shake it!”  Because I want her to wiggle her butt at me.  She ignores me.  I keep trying.  She keeps ignoring.  Anyway.

Okay, so, here’s the thing.  I had to be UBER-wifey caues BETH busted me out about my Tweet message in the comments to this entry.  Heh.  Last night, I twittered that Besos was giving me a look because I told her that I was going to cry myself to sleep because her boobs were not as big as the bra she was wearing might lead me to believe.  Of course, she didn’t know that I’d twittered it until Beth’s comment. Which made her laugh. And me, too.

PHEW.  Still a bastard.