A Decade, Granny Panties, & Paris
Hot damn, ya'll. I got my tickets to Europe: Paris, Bruges, Amsterdam, London and Northhampton. It is our 10 year anniversary and we decided we needed a repeat of our honeymoon. It's not the same places as the first time, but it is two weeks like the first time. We're meeting our niece Alex in London, and we are taking her to Northhampton with us to meet Val's (Scott's mom, Alex's grandmother) Brit side of the family. We are also bringing Val's ashes to scatter in her hometown, so this trip will have some solemn bits in it.
This morning was a long leisurely one. I got a ton done on my laptop: bills, buying supplies, plowing through tons of email I ignored these past few days. We had coffee I bought at Whole Foods. I was a little disappointed because it cost $15 and tasted Meh. I'm sorry, for $15 it should have tasted like Angel pussy, it should make me want to kneel and weep because I'd finally found nirvana. Nope. Meh. Molasses flavored Meh, but still Meh. When I told Scott, he laughed and gave me a big smacking kiss on the lips. Later, when we were in the yard discussing the Chairman Mao bio I'm slogging through, he stopped and said,
"How many decade old marriages do you see this kind of affection. I don't see them. We really have something special."
I nodded then said, "Not having kids helps."
He laughed. "Definitely."
Most bizarre thing my husband has asked me to wear because he thinks they're sexy.
Granny Panties.
No shit. Granny Panties. I have nice panties(not to get all you panty fetish freaks going out there). I promised myself after my last marriage I would never degrade myself by wearing shoddy beat-up underthings again. I deserved bras that fit, and panties that didn't come 5 to a bag. Granny panties were parked firmly on the low self esteem downtrodden wife list. Until. Scott was watching me wiggle into some lacy boy shorts and he sighed and asked.'
"Don't you have any plain white cotton panties?"
"No. What would be the point in that?"
"It's just... I think you'd look sexy in them."
"GRANNY PANTIES?"
He just shrugged. I thought about it for a few days then decided if the freakiest shit I'm asked to do in my life is to wear what I consider the burlap bag of undies, I'm damned lucky. So I grabbed a multi pack at Target. One thing I'll say for them, comfy. Still makes my ass look like a sack of potatoes, but I don't stare at my butt. And if the man who is staring at it likes white panties, so be it.
Gotta go to work now. One last thought though:
PARIS, BITCHES!!!!!!:O)
This morning was a long leisurely one. I got a ton done on my laptop: bills, buying supplies, plowing through tons of email I ignored these past few days. We had coffee I bought at Whole Foods. I was a little disappointed because it cost $15 and tasted Meh. I'm sorry, for $15 it should have tasted like Angel pussy, it should make me want to kneel and weep because I'd finally found nirvana. Nope. Meh. Molasses flavored Meh, but still Meh. When I told Scott, he laughed and gave me a big smacking kiss on the lips. Later, when we were in the yard discussing the Chairman Mao bio I'm slogging through, he stopped and said,
"How many decade old marriages do you see this kind of affection. I don't see them. We really have something special."
I nodded then said, "Not having kids helps."
He laughed. "Definitely."
Most bizarre thing my husband has asked me to wear because he thinks they're sexy.
Granny Panties.
No shit. Granny Panties. I have nice panties(not to get all you panty fetish freaks going out there). I promised myself after my last marriage I would never degrade myself by wearing shoddy beat-up underthings again. I deserved bras that fit, and panties that didn't come 5 to a bag. Granny panties were parked firmly on the low self esteem downtrodden wife list. Until. Scott was watching me wiggle into some lacy boy shorts and he sighed and asked.'
"Don't you have any plain white cotton panties?"
"No. What would be the point in that?"
"It's just... I think you'd look sexy in them."
"GRANNY PANTIES?"
He just shrugged. I thought about it for a few days then decided if the freakiest shit I'm asked to do in my life is to wear what I consider the burlap bag of undies, I'm damned lucky. So I grabbed a multi pack at Target. One thing I'll say for them, comfy. Still makes my ass look like a sack of potatoes, but I don't stare at my butt. And if the man who is staring at it likes white panties, so be it.
Gotta go to work now. One last thought though:
PARIS, BITCHES!!!!!!:O)
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