“Hey!  Honey!” I yelled.  I was stark naked, about to take a shower.

“Yes?” my spouse asked.

“Do we have any more drain net things, for the bathroom sink?  The one in here is moldy and nasty and disgusting, and we need a new one!  Seriously!  I cannot live this way!”

He was impressed by my demanding outburst.

“What size is the drain?” he asked.

“Uh, I didn’t measure it,” I said.  “I don’t have my tape measurer.”

He patted pretend pockets on his hips.

“Yeah, tape measure is not what I keep in my pocket,” I said, patting my cunt.

He made a motion of pulling tape measure tape out of his dick area.  As if he was being me, and I could pull tape measure tape out of my cunt.

We were laughing, by then, so much.  What he lacks in language, he makes up for in other ways.  I love his mind, and learning disabilities are 100% welcome, at our house.


My love is a very smart, funny person.  But no one gets quite that version of him but me.  The relaxed, vibrant one.  Other people get a good listener, a hiking buddy, a meaningful-project-mate.

Those are good selves, other people get.  But with those people, he can seem didactic and rigid.  I’m the only one who gets the best–this hilarious, super-creative, attentive, kind person.  It’s almost sad, I’m the only one who gets the supreme miracle, for now.


I remember the friend I recently lost, I felt that way about him too.  I wanted to tell him that, but never got the chance.

Probably everyone got almost the version of him that I got.  But sometimes if I received a dazzling, beautiful selfie, or he texted a gorgeous phrase that took my breath away, I thought how lucky I was.  That I could know this brilliant, miraculous man in a way that was possibly special for me.

We were doing our unique relationship, which we had built together.  What a collaboration–the collaboration no one could really know but us.  Maybe if he brought out some of the best in me, I brought out some of the best in him too?

I was lucky like heaven opened and poured down a waterfall of golden pleasure-light on me.  Yeah, sometimes it felt that way.  But my luck ended.

drain net thing

My spouse looked in the pantry for a new drain net thing.

“Is this right?” he asked, holding up shiny metal round meshy thing.

“No, that’s way too big,” I said, still naked, staring at the bathroom sink drain.  “Looks really small, like only an inch.”

“How about this?”

“Yes!” I said.  “Yay!”  The right sized sink drain net was cute and clean.  I popped it into the drain, where it fit perfectly.

He took away the old yucky drain net.  I took a shower, and went to bed for more nudity and comfort.

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

One reply on “drain”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *