“Lucky for me your keen eye isn’t limited to spiders.” The joke fell flat. Maybe I should’ve smiled.
I’m a stay-at-home mom. That’s not a misnomer. I don’t get out much. With three kids under age 4 in tow, I need a sedative just to pick up the refill of my prescription sedative.
Lately I’m like a live-in companion to a man who pays me in boob gropes and beer farts. Our Sunday night sex appointments are currently on hold until The Walking Dead goes on hiatus. Good. I practically get knocked up just folding his boxers.
The most thrilling part of my day—besides taking my bra off after dinner—is ogling my new neighbor. Every morning at precisely 10:25, I let Disney Junior babysit the twins and confine Manning to the ExerSaucer. (Hubby took advantage of my post-delivery euphoria when it came to naming the last kid.)
Then I position myself by the window. Like clockwork, Hot Dad strolls past a few minutes later enroute to the park with his pristine little princess. She never has grass stains on her clothes or bruises from a Mega Bloks brawl.
Monday it took longer than usual to free Maisy from Mason’s headlock, so I missed the sexiest ass ever covered in khaki.
Yesterday I woke up early to decipher the triple stroller. For an extra Pop-Tart, Maisy let me brush her hair. I pulled on my nicest yoga pants and a fitted top rather than one of Hubby’s huge, holey concert tees.
Hot Dad was pushing his daughter on the swing when my brood arrived.
“Hello,” I chirped.
“Hey there.” His smile heated my insides. That, or my shirt was cutting off my circulation.
“My mommy watches you in the window,” Mason announced.
Sigh.
I’m expecting a restraining order notice any day now.
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This week's Trifecta Writing Challenge:
The
entry must be 33-333 words and include the word "companion" as defined
below:
COMPANION
a : one that is closely connected with something similar
COMPANION
a : one that is closely connected with something similar
b : one employed to live with and serve another
Word count: 333
