Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Making his Dreams come true

As it was my husband's birthday yesterday, he got to choose where we dined for his celebratory dinner. With a little whining, and prodding, wouldn't you know, he picked my favorite restaurant. It's a nice little place; great Cajun cuisine. It was a win-win for everyone involved, because I got to eat my favorite food and my hubs got to ogle the girls who work at the Hooters across the street. See how everyone walked away happy?

After our dinner, the hubs decided he wanted to take me shopping. I know, shocking, a man who likes to shop. You see, dear internet, my hubs is a wily fox. After downing numerous beer and ogling the chickies from Hooters, he was getting himself in the mood. I did promise after all, that Mr. Pickle may be able to play. My hubs was intent on making that promise a reality.

So a stroll through the local mall ensued. Where my husband would proceed to drag me into every swimsuit shop and lingerie boutique he could find. We have a pool and I haven't bought myself a suit in over four years. Apparently, my man is tired of looking at the demure, blue flowered one piece I currently own. I discovered he would much rather prefer to see me in a pink string bikini, where my arse can sag and my flabby white thighs can wiggle like jello. And A-cups. Of course they are meant to be shoved under flimsy pieces of fabric with no support. Nothing like rolling up the ole beaver tails...

But as it was my hubs birthday and this is what he wanted to do, I played along and modeled the suits he would choose for me. Imagine me struggling to squeeze into these numbers under the fluorescent lights only to come out to twirl around for my darling. Apparently, my sniggering and sarcastic remarks, along with my white socks which I refused to remove, made it hard for him to get in the mood. Poor baby.

In the end, I walked away with two new suits, a lovely red gingham number and the pink string bikini which will never see the light of day. But when my hubs was wandering, I managed to sneak in something special for him. His very own Speedo. And it is sparkly. Silver and black. He hasn't seen it yet, but I imagine Mr. Pickle will fit snug as a bug in it.

The day he insists I wear that silly string bikini will be the day I haul out his new Speedo. It will either kill his wet dreams, or we will be the tragic couple on the beach, with both our bellies hanging loose and our pasty white skin advertising our Redneck ways. I warn you now: Cover your eyes!

13 Comments:

Blogger B.E.C.K. said...

It cracks me up that you're saving the Speedo for a strategic moment. Now I want that moment to happen so you can blog about it. ;^)

1:22 PM  
Anonymous Kristen said...

Sorry. All I read was:

lalalalalalalalalalalalalMr.Picklelalalalalaallalalala

Hilarious.

1:48 PM  
Blogger Cynthia E. Bagley said...

Hi wow.. I followed this link from Useless Advice...LOL boy it was funny ;-)

2:12 PM  
Blogger My float said...

I got stuck on the bit where it says "a man likes to shop". What is he, an alien?!

2:57 PM  
Blogger Surfing Free said...

I wasn't even the one trying on swimming togs but I still had to reach out and cover my tummy and my eyes! I wear board shorts and a tankini top when swimming atire is required in my life. I appauld your courage :)

4:02 PM  
Anonymous Izzy said...

Beaver tails...oh man.

You've given a name to one of my secret fears.

I'm fairly certain that when I'm done breastfeeding #2 baby, that I will, in fact, be left roll'em up beaver tails.

6:34 PM  
Blogger mothergoosemouse said...

A pool? In Canada? Are you shitting me?

The beaver tail business reminded me of a comedy sketch we saw a couple weeks ago. If only it weren't such an apt analogy.

9:34 PM  
Blogger jellyhead said...

T, I'm with you here - the bikini is really for non-mothers, the under 30, and the rare genetic mutants who are both mothers and over 30 and yet still look great in a bikini. (When I see these mutants, I want to weep with envy)

4:40 AM  
Blogger Her Bad Mother said...

All *I* read was 'rolling up the beaver tails'... is that some dirty Tim Hortons Canadianism that I haven't heard yet?

6:13 AM  
Blogger Fidget said...

that.is.AWESOME!

Beaver tails! BWHAHAHAHA I refer to ione as Tribal Titties

8:20 AM  
Blogger Mom101 said...

Oh my God, so funny!

Something tells me that if you walked away with a string bikini (let alone even taking it off the rack in the first place) you are looking a whole lot better in it than you are letting on.

10:55 AM  
Blogger T. said...

I only wish Mom-101. I considered the blow to my self-esteem as part of his birthday present.

12:13 PM  
Blogger Abandoned in Pasadena said...

If your husband sees you as the bikini type then you must not be telling us everything. You are probably one of those rare genetic mutants that Jellyhead was talking about.

Love your writing and all the laughs you give me. Laughter is the best medicine and you are helping to keep me alive a little longer.

6:45 PM  

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