“Hey, what if I buy you a Mexican dressup shirt, project a bunch of family stuff on to you, then have sex with you. Does that sound fun?” I asked my spouse.
He was standing in the kitchen and looked at me kind of confused. “Uh, yeah?” he said.
Usually when I say a list of things, he can hear and remember the final item of the list. But I could tell from his facial expression that he half-heard the rest of it, and it sounded complicated.
Oh, sweetheart. Such a good sport, ready for love. Processing family pain is a lot of work.
It’s been many similar days lately, cooped up. I’d like something different.
