“Yes Dear.”

“Hi.  When you get up, you really need to not leave Frisco in the bedroom.  He just tried to vomit on the bed and I flung him across the room.”

“Baby, he’s a sneaky bastard.”

“I know.  That’s why I said TRY.”

“Well maybe if my alarm went off so I got up at the right time – ”

“No.  Nonono.  I called YOU.  If you want to get bitchy, you have to call me back later.”

“…well, that hardly seems fair!”

I grasped for any sort of clever singsong saying to prove my point.  This is how we make rules, right?  Find a rhyming scheme and drill it home? 

From now on, whomever dialed, gets to be riled.

Of course, I didn’t think of that at 4:50am.  My mind was a little full of sleep and vomit escape paths.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Watcha doing?”

“Peeing.”

“Where are you?”

“In the bathroom.”

“…”

“…”

“That’s…fortunate?”

“I thought so.”

A monster truck painted orange and black passes…
 
Me:  Ugh.
 
ST:  Yeah.
 
Me:  I bet he fucks like a jackhammer.  And it’s either really painful or really boring.
 
ST:  I was wondering why he had his truck painted like a fishing lure.

Everyone has certain tricks – wiggling their ears, burping the alphabet, something that makes them unique and strange.

Me?  I talk to sleeping people.

I don’t know if it’s the timbre of my voice, or that I’ve honed the exact right amount of questioning that should go into a conversation, but give me someone in blissful slumber and I can give you an interesting dialogue.

Me:  Honey, is there anything I can get you?

ST:  Money.

Me:  Money?  Why do you want money from me?

ST:  I need fifty cents for milk.

(ST hates drinking milk unless it’s a newly opened carton.  He drinks chocolate or soy.)

Me:  Where do you get milk?

ST:  Everyday.

Me:  No, WHERE?  Do you get milk at work?

ST:  Kindergarten.

(Pause for my laughter.)

Me:  Kindergarten?

ST:  It’s retro.

(Pause for me to try and ascertain if he’s truly asleep or fucking with me.  Asleep.)

Me:  I was thinking of giving you sex, but if you want fifty cents for milk…

ST:  I’ll take the sex.

Me:  Then how will you get your milk?

ST:  Through the Internet.

Me:  How will you get milk through the Internet?

ST:  The INTERNET.

Me:  No, HOW?

ST:  Through a big pipe line.

There you go people.  Internets got milk?

Shortly after this conversation, I yelled at the dog for drinking out of the toilet and ST asked what was going on.  When I explained, he jumped in with this helpful statement, “Little Dog!  You get in here under this license plate!”

Indeed.

At a red light, I cup ST’s cheek in my hand. I’ve been cranky because we are shopping and I am the only woman in the world evidently that hates that shit.

“Baby, you are the man of my dreams.”

“…you must have some weird dreams then.”

“Yup. I’m just waiting for you to bring out the chicken suit.”

Uttered by ST while fixing things around my house…

“If I had known you had a DeWalt, I’d have gotten serious much sooner!…Oh wait.  It’s only 12-volt.  Never mind.”

“Have you started to dye it?”
 
“Um, no.” 
“It just doesn’t seem as noticeable these days.”
 
I struggle for an answer then realize the cause, “It’s because I’m back at the sanctuary.”
 
“The sun.  That would do it.”
 
“Sorry.”
 
“That’s OK.  I have a picture in my mind’s eye.”
 
“You are the only man I know who wants to imagine more gray hair on a woman.”
 
“I can cause a bit more too.  Just give me time.”

“Something you said Saturday night confused me.”
 
“Oh?”
 
“You mentioned how I am different from other women because I do not demand 10,001 commitments.  And you made it sounds like a compliment.”
 
“Maybe demand is the wrong word.  I have been trapped before.”
 
“Trapped?”
 
“Yeah, like when one day it’s going to the movies and the next she’s asking what I want for our 50^th wedding anniversary.  What we want to name the second kid.”
 
“I see.  Because I had been thinking yesterday.  I was thinking that maybe…I…didn’t want to…date…(cough)…other people.  And I was thinking that you would like that.  But then I remembered what you said and I wasn’t sure anymore.”
 
“I would like that.  I would like that a lot.  I just don’t feel I have a right to ask that because I can’t offer anything more right now.”  *
 
“But you’re never going to be able offer anything more.  This is it.”
 
“True.”
 
“So…it seems either we can make it work the way things are or we can’t.”
 
“A fair assessment.  It would be nice to know you only want to spend time with me.  It would be a relief that you were saving your time for me.”
 
“….”
 
“….”
 
“….”
 
“….”
 
“…I’m trying to say something.  The commitmentphobe in me is holding back.”
 
“I figured.  I heard the cough.”  **
 
“So I think…maybe that’s what I want to do.”
 
“I’ve got a warm fuzzy feeling right now.”
 
“Are you sure that’s not a pit in your stomach?”
 
“No.  It’s definitely higher.”
 
“Good.”
 
*He works insane hours, and shift to boot.  He has mentioned several times that he thinks it might lighten up after this or that, but finally on Saturday I cut through the bullshit and got him to admit he loves his job so much there will always be something.
 
**I get this throat tickle when talking about relationships.  I call it my commitment phobic cough.  I also flap my hands around like a penguin attempting flight; you just can’t see it over the phone.

Him:  So the trail by the rapids is right here.
Me:  A third of a mile??  (Thinking:  this date is going to be over in ten minutes!)
Him:  That’s the shortest.
Me:  When I said I wouldn’t be up for much?  I was thinking less than five miles.
Him:  Oh.

(Thank goodness we only did about three so I didn’t wimp out.)

Later…

Him:  I’m never going live that down, am I?
Me:  Nope.  We HAVE to get married now.  And have a big family so the grand kids can gather round to hear the story of how Grandpa turned down Grandma’s offer to get him a hooker.

(Also?  I informed this gentleman that my bark is worse than my bite.  Evidently I am a fifth grade gym teacher now…)

Edited on 3/27/12 to add that in re-reading this for major site revision I’ve categorized this in “Take A Hike”  How cool is it that Tom and my fourth date was a hike?

Me:  Oh Lord.  You would pimp me for a microphone wouldn’t you?
 
TG:  Of course not!  It would have to be something much more valuable.
 
Me:  Like what?
 
TG:  …An airplane?  Yeah, I’d pimp you for no less than airplane.
 
Me:  Sigh.
 
TG:  Well what do you want to be pimped for?
 
Me:  Nothing!
 
TG:  OK baby.  I won’t pimp you for anything.

Me:  Yeah right.  I’m so getting pimped for an airplane…