Marika Malaea

faithful marauder + fake royal

The Poop Shower

with 9 comments

bonneanniv

I usually write a letter to the Esq on our anniversary – and this year, I did – but I’m not posting it. Here is last year’s letter and also last year’s anniversary blog. I’m just having a very private week – but that doesn’t mean I won’t wax poetic about how my boyfriend totally owns yours, because he totally fucking does.

The Esq lets me poop in our bathroom just seconds before he takes a shower, which is unthinkable for smell-sensitive pansies like myself. If the roles were reversed, I’d probably say something like ‘THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY I AM SHOWERING IN YOUR STEAMING HOT POOP.’ Once my cast was on, he lovingly peeled the disgusting, petrified-looking skin from my dehydrated, casted toes – which made me sick to my stomach – and massaged my inactive feet, all summer long. He learned how to cook during my recovery time, and by ‘cook’ I mean he now makes a mean Tuna Helper. It took him four trips to the car with all of my Injury Paraphernalia before we could ever leave, and he still managed to grin and bear it – for three months. He does things ‘just because,’ debunking a myth perpetuated by romance novels and 80’s flower commercials. He actually thinks about my needs (‘your what?’) – and communicates like a grown-up (‘like a what?’). He’s an Olympic gold medalist in extreme snuggling, and makes me shriek with witchy laughter over his punchline timing and delivery, which, by the way, is impeccable. He’s more affectionate and demonstrative than a truckload of newborn kittens, and tastier than a pig rolled in bacon bits. He’s my favorite person besides the monster, my best friend above all others. He’s like crack, if crack was good for you. Underneath the Esq’s stoic outward packaging is a stoic little softie, which makes this cast-iron teddy bear melt. Plus he looks fantastic shirtless – I mean, what’s the point in dating a younger man if there aren’t certain benefits? I’m a lucky girl.

We’d been talking about marriage lately – what, when, why – and I offered him a marital olive branch, one where we don’t get married until he’s basically fifty and banging his secretary, which hopefully he takes me up on. I didn’t want him thinking I was tapping my toes, like HELLO! THREE YEARS! Let’s get this show on the road! OH HELL NO. We both have so many things we’d like to do or accomplish first, and spending money on creative or professional endeavors is a priority for me, in lieu of having overpriced nuptials that set you back four years. Guess what? I’m already behind that much – I’d like to catch up, follow some dreams, continue to build our life together, and breathe. I just think men need a reprieve from the OH MY GOD IT’S BEEN THREE YEARS THE CLOCK IS TICKING MY UTERUS IS ROTTING WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME, and I need a break from worrying about the future. His response, of course, was a little speech about how he chose me, and I’m it – so why run towards the finish line, especially when he knows we’ll be together for a long time. He said some other stuff, but by that time I was bawling in the car and he was most likely rolling his eyes, so I didn’t hear the rest. In a nutshell, we’d like to be together forever – so waiting 5+ years is, in comparison, a drop of urine in a giant bucket. To put it romantically.

The difference this year is he said all that, and this time I believed him. I’m slowly getting over my fears of losing him and then being eaten by a great white shark in a local community pool. It’s been a really good year for us – oh, sure, financial failures and unplanned surgeries abound – but ‘us’ in the proverbial sense… it just gets better. I’ve been awfully close to breaking out in song on the sidewalk, choreographed dance and all – that’s how good it’s been. No wonder I love Glee so much.

We’re hardcore romantics, so for our anniversary we’ll be finding a taco truck and then going to see Zombieland.

I meatloaf you the most, J – bonne anniversaire!

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Written by sn0tteh

October 2, 2009 at 3:58 PM

9 Responses

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  1. Get married. Then we can all tell you what a mistake you made…

    Libby

    October 2, 2009 at 7:24 PM

  2. This made me warm and fuzzy, tear up, and laugh out loud. I get the female olympic medal in snuggling, and here’s to may more years of “us”. I was there when you met and will never forget it.

    mafiamama

    October 2, 2009 at 8:05 PM

  3. @Libby That’s almost a mistake I look forward to. 🙂

    sn0tteh

    October 2, 2009 at 11:12 PM

  4. @mafiamama I’m glad you were there during that whole whatever, snuggle queen.

    sn0tteh

    October 2, 2009 at 11:12 PM

  5. Happy Anniversary!

    And the poop shower thing? Totally gross, but a declaration of true love if I’ve ever heard of one.

    Badass Geek

    October 3, 2009 at 9:28 AM

  6. @Badass Geek Gross, true love. That’s us!

    sn0tteh

    October 3, 2009 at 9:34 AM

  7. […] me) blog, “Snotty McSnotterson”  (https://sn0tty.wordpress.com/), and she signed off a (at times gross) paean to her love, “I meatloaf you the most, J – bonne anniversaire!”. Which I get, but not […]

  8. Thanks for stopping by, and clearing up the *loaf mystery. From one nerd couple to another, Happy Anniversary!

    Jon Gallagher

    October 6, 2009 at 4:54 PM

  9. Thanks, Jon!

    sn0tteh

    October 9, 2009 at 8:20 AM


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