Tag Archives: pillow talk

Survivor: Female Prison Edition (More Pillow Talk)

3 Jul

Last nights pillow talk did not disappoint.

T: If I was convicted of a crime, would you wait for me?

Me: Depends on the crime and the length of sentence.

T: I got drunk and stole something from the convenience store. I’d get 30 days and probation.

Me: What a stupid crime. No I would not wait for you, on principal, I refuse to be married to a dumb criminal. Maybe if the crime was a bit more smart, and of course, non-violent.

T: Really? You would leave me?

Me: I can’t waste my time on stupidity, so yes.

T: Ok, what if it was something like murder or embezzlement, only I was truly innocent, and you knew it. But you’d have to wait 10 years?

Me: Hmmm… I don’t know. Maybe.

T: Maybe!?! Seriously?

Me: Geez don’t get all worked up. It’s only hypothetical.

T: I’d wait forever for you, Lace. (He really said this as sweet as you read it.) Or at least 10 years without question.

Me: That’s nice, hun.

(I think he was offended that I wouldn’t wait, but I don’t enjoy lying. Even hypothetical lies. They just don’t set well with me.)

Me: I think I could do hard time and fair pretty well.

T: Ya right. You’d be chewed up and spit out and be made someone’s bitch in no time flat. You’re too pretty and small.

Me: No, female prison would be cake. I’d approach it like an extended game of “Survivor”. I’d find a sexy, buff, well-feared butch to align myself with and manipulate all the others around me with my good looks and small stature. I would run the show in the end, my love. Because I am brilliant and cunning.

T: Seriously, Lace?

Me: Yes. People usually like me and lesbians love me, as you know. And honestly, it wouldn’t be difficult. So I’d have to wash my hands a lot, and probably need you to send me lotion. I would be fine. In fact, I’d be more than fine. Woman prison is far easier than man prison, ya know. I might even enjoy the sexual activity I’d have to dole out for my insured safety. Men on the other hand, well, they probably don’t enjoy the action because it hurts more and ….(he cuts me off)

T: Yes. I know why men dislike prison. But why would you have to wash your hands a lot? …. Oh, never mind.

Me: While out on bond, awaiting my sentencing, I’d get a couple of hardcore tattoos and some on my face for good measure. Just to look a bit more legit. Maybe I should just go all out with the tats and make my face look like a skull. I bet they would leave me alone then and I wouldn’t even have to play Survivor: Female Prison Edition.

T: Oh babe…

Me: And then when I get out, we’d need to book a couple of laser appointments.

T: Anything for you my love.

***The blog has been quiet because I’ve been soaking up time with my son. I have to say goodbye to his cute face tomorrow evening, and I am kind of a wreck about it. I was so excited to have this whole month to myself, but more and more I am realizing that it is his company that I treasure. No amount of peace and quiet could compare to the chaotic whirlwind of love and joy he brings about our home. It’s going to be a month of growth I fear…. Anyways, I did manage to compile a bunch of cards and will be writing and sharing them soon!***

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Umbrellas Have A Purpose

21 Jun

Just a short post this morning as I am heading out to help a friend get organized for a move. There’s been a promise of Starbucks, so of course, I am there.
Last night in bed T and I were discussing our day and planning out our weekend. I made mention that I wish I had a Canadian driver’s license because it’s so hot, B and I dislike walking very far in this heat. But in order to cool down and have fun, we need to walk about a mile to the nearest plash-pad/park.

Me- Maybe we could call a cab for the ride there? And you could pick us up after work?

T- That’s kinda weird for just a mile. I can pick you up, but I don’t think a cab is necessary.

Me- Ya, I know. It’s just so humid it makes me sick walking in it. (using my whiny voice here)

(He offers no ideas. Time passes in silence.)

Me- I could always use an umbrella like those Asian people B pointed out the other day. (B thought them very strange walking with an umbrella in 100 degree weather)

T- So you’re going to use an umbrella?

Me- Yeah, I think that would help shade us while we walk. Like a parasol…

T- So you’re going to use an umbrella to shade yourself from the sunshine?

(T starts giggling. Yes, giggling.)

Me- What is so funny?

T- Well, in true Seattlite fashion, you never use an umbrella. You always have them around, but you just gingerly walk out into the rain, never complaining. It could be pouring and you just walk faster. Now you want to use one, but it’s to block out sun.

(Yes, I get it now)

Me- Well that’s because if I don’t shade myself from the sun, people will see me sparkle. I can’t risk people figuring out  what I truly am.

T- Twilight? Really?

Me- OK yes, it’s weird and I get the oxymoron found of my actions. Or maybe it’s just moronic….

T- Love you Lace.

Me- Love you, Night T.

(Time passes as we try to sleep)

Me- YES! Now I can finally use that umbrella that came with my purse! It matches the lining you know…

T- Glad you finally found a use for it….

Me- I know right?! It takes up so much space, but I knew some day it would come in handy.

T- You could have used it last time you were in Seattle, with all those rainy days.

Me- You just don’t get it T. You don’t get it.

Have a great Thursday everyone! I know I will. Starbucks is on the horizon.

Our Kind of Pillow Talk

7 Jun

T and I have something special when it comes to communication. Our ability to converse spans over many subjects and nothing is off-limits. I find him to be the most stimulating conversationalist but for the sake of our marriage and happiness we avoid political debates, well, before bedtime at least.

Last night we watched an episode of House. At the end Wilson is getting a brain scan to determine if his tumor is operable. Of course there was a cliff hanger and we’ll find out tonight if Wilson is toast, but that ending stuck with me.

Subsequently, our pillow talk went a bit twisted. Instead of talking about the usual, like, current world issues, Dungeons and Dragons, T’s work, B’s future, our dreams and goals, how much I miss the energy drink Whoopass, what kind of superhero we would be…it drifted to Death with Dignity.

T and I have discussed our stance on Death with Dignity and although we both support that choice, we never took it deeper than that. Well, boy did we go deeper. Like 6 feet under.

I asked T if he would kill me if I was terminally ill, suffering immensely and unable to exercise Death with Dignity. Without hesitation, and kind of excitedly, he replied, “Oh yes!”

I have such a devoted husband.

It went further.

T-  “Heck, I’d decapitate you on the steps of Parliament!”

T- “Well I mean, if I wasn’t taking care of B. I wouldn’t risk going to prison if B was still in our care.”

Was that statement about B suppose to make this uneasy feeling dissipate?

Me- “Babe, that’s nice and all but I’d like to just OD on a lot of great pain killers. Ya know, without the bloody mess, TV crews and your imprisonment? Do you not remember what Death with Dignity is?”

He knew what it entailed. Apparently his willingness to decapitate me in public was supposed to prove to me the lengths he would go to ensure I suffered no longer. But it kind of  just creeped me out.

The conversation progressed after I turned out the lights.

T- “If you could choose a way to die, not by pills or decapitation (who chooses decapitation? Is that even on the table of chosen ways to die?) what would you choose?”

Me- “If I can’t have pills, I choose sudden impact.”

T- “So I would just wheel you off a cliff?”

Me- “What, wheel me?”

T- “Well, you’d free fall and just SMACK against the ground, dead. That’s a pretty good one hun.”

Me- “I wouldn’t need pushing, I’m not afraid to die. (Why does he want to be such an active part of my death?) What about jumping out of a plane together, except I don’t pull my parachute?”

T- “Well you could do that. I couldn’t go with you.” (T is afraid of heights)

I start laughing.

Me- “If you did want to kill yourself that way. I bet I would meet you upon landing and be pissed off that you pulled your parachute.”

This was funny. Probably because we were both tired and the conversation was morbid. But the idea of being upset that he was alive, saying goodbye to him “one last time” as we free-falled together and having to keep paying for jumps out of the plane, only for him to still be living at the end of it all…. It was just funny.

T- “I wonder if someone who was scared of heights had the choice to jump off a cliff or die a slow agonizing death, could commit suicide by jumping?”

We agreed T couldn’t and had another weird laugh about death.

Me- “So how would you want to go?”

T- “I’d like to go quickly.” (From previous conversations I knew his favorite form of capital punishment was death by firing squad, he reminded me though. And just so you know, I would prefer lethal injection. In case that knowledge is some time needed in the future.)

T- “A firing squad would be cool. Or a gun to the head, it’s all the same.”

Me- “Good to know hun, glad we discussed this. I’m getting tired…”

T- “We have the best bed time conversations, don’t we? I sure love you.”

Me- “Love you more.”

I gave him a kiss good night and something fell off his mustache, and onto my lip. It was salty, and small, and round. Yes, a booger.I had a mini freak out he just laughed. I got over it.

 

*I try to sleep. Several minutes pass and I just can’t help myself.*

Me- “Decapitate me on the steps of Parliament?!? I’m going to dream of you killing me.”

T- In his sweetest, nearly asleep voice, “Only because I love you so much.”

 

 

QUESTION PERIOD: What’s the strangest bedtime conversation topic you’ve enjoyed or endured? I’d love to hear about it!