marital aids

Monday is Doug and I’s anniversary. We’ll probably celebrate by giving each other a kiss on the cheek as we pass each other on the staircase. We see each other several times a day when Doug comes up from his dungeon to get a fresh pot of coffee and I walk down to move laundry from the washing machine to the dryer. Otherwise, it’s all Skype and Twitter. Twitter people get queasy if someone tweets about adult activities during office hours, but we could probably get away with some racey Skype interaction. Just in case we have 3- 13 minutes alone and uninterrupted by urgent phone calls, I washed Doug’s favorite marital aids today. “Wait, my leg went numb. Maybe if I bend like this.” “Ow, you’re cutting off my circulation.” “Okay, maybe if I lean here I could, ouch – I’m getting a cramp like this.” “Here, try putting this here and that there.” “Oh, yes. That feels so much better.”

The pillows are clean and fluffy for propping up middle aged body parts. In seemingly unrelated news, Doug thinks he’s going to go for a run every night.

4 thoughts on “marital aids

  1. I kind of can’t believe I twittered my friends childbirth. I was just bored out of my mind waiting at the hospital. I’m sure she probably didn’t appreciate a play by play feed on the interweb.

    Nice to meet you today, sorry if I was a total spazz and scared you and your daughter. I’m just socially handicapped sometimes.

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