Don't punch my ass

TRUE STORY TUESDAY

Always a day late - My good friend, Aunt Crazy, or Y as we call her in Texas, told me about True Story Tuesday yesterday while I was at work, so I began typing like a mad woman as soon as I was off  work but hadn't left yet (or almost off) and was excited to get home to finish it. After a few run-ins with people I felt like throwing things at - #1. our doctor for talking to me about my cysts while my daughter sat right there waiting for her precription for her acne - #2. the optometrist type person that at one point told me to pick my battles mom, but then assumed my kid would be ok with wearing her glasses that are being held together with duck tape after taking a soccer ball in the face for another week (after a calm but firm confrontation, we agreed that today worked better for us!) - #3. one of the men in my life for not starting to fix the bath tub tap during the hour he was home before me because he was reading until he caught me just about to cry like a bitch, and #4. my kid for being the snottiest 12 year old with PMS I have ever met, I really didn't feeling like doing another damn thing. 

Anyway, unsure if it's even a good story, but too much effort has been put into it now, here it is:
I've been seeing one of the men in my life (let's call him T-Bone, he'll like that) for over 2 years now. I fell for him immediately after having 3 sleepovers where we didn't do that nasty, but instead laid in the dark talking and laughing until the sun came up. Fortunately for him, I am one of the few that can appreciate his sense of humor. I do not, however, laugh anymore when he's finished cooking and it looks like a bunch of toddlers on speed made mud pies on the counters and threw gravy all over the floor. I can't for life of me remember how I ever used to laugh at that. But I did. I also used to wake up every morning that we were together with a smile on my face, I'd turn into him for the small peck on the lips so not get a whiff of the morning breath (because that crap you see on TV ... the romantic morning sex where the man and the woman are kissing - with the tongues - and breathing at each others faces inches away is bullshit and we all know it ...), we'd cuddle for a few minutes, and ok, sometimes hours (even on work days), yes it sounds like we were sickeningly falling in love .... Well let me tell you how our last fight started ... I know I've mentioned before my recent battles with my weight, but I'm certain what you don't know about me, is I have a big ol' booty, seriously, an ass and hips that are completely disproportionate to the rest of my normally tiny frame ... ok, you got me, completely proportionate to my gut though .... crap. Anyway, as I've come to realize over the years, by big ol' booty is not a flaw. I have been cat-called by complete strangers. A fight even broke out last Halloween at the bar we were at when a short, yet very brave man tried to hold on to my booty ... not a great idea when I'm on the dance floor with friends of T-Bone .... moving on, I have confidence in my behind and I know that coupled with my tendency to gamble more than I should, it's one of the top reasons that T-Bone sticks around. I should also share that at the beginning of our relationship, I had mentioned (more like warned) him that I am a monster in the mornings. Or would soon turn into a monster. He kept sloughing it off, telling me that he couldn’t imagine me a monster. Maybe he just thought it was funny or cute, or dismissed it just as I had when I became of aware of what he manages to do to the kitchen when cooking. Anyway, it was almost 2 years before he saw the evil thing rear it's head and took notice, but even then, it was pretty tame. Until 2 weeks ago .... I went to bed with a pretty purple lacey pair of undies on .. he was already sleeping, but my plan was for the next morning. I’m not a selfish person, I wasn’t going to wake him up just to give me some lovins. Even though it had been forever and I was on a mission. I went to sleep excited for the next morning, almost like when you’re a kid on Christmas Eve wondering what Santa is going to leave in your stocking. Finally, it’s morning and I have waited long enough. I back into him for some cuddling (cuz we all know how much men love that ..) ..... now I understand that men don't notice a whole lot ... especially the T-Bone, like when I've trimmed a mere inch of hair off my head, or even when I've just had my eyebrows threaded to ensure they remain a pair, but the little purple piece of lace I have wrapped around my big ol' booty instead of the things I usually wear? Come on, meet me half-way here. No response. No response from the guy that will yell "BOOBS!" so I can hear him from anywhere in the house when he sees a nice set on the TV. But my position is assumed, I'm ready for the schnoo schnoo that is almost a distant memory, and I’m not taking defeat this particular morning. I feel a stir under the blankets; I’m getting a response, I’m getting excited ... Finally. WTF? A punch in the ass followed by "big bum"!!! Then he turned right over and tried to go back to sleep. Tried to go back to sleep. We didn't see each other for a week after that morning, didn't spend another night together in 2. But now he knows, don't punch my ass and tell me it's big in the morning.


see .... disproportionate ... (ok, I had gravity and on odd camera angle working against me here too ...)