I’m pretty independent. I live on my own, have a power drill, and I buy my own shoes – a lot like Destiny’s Child. Today, however, when I was in my back lot fixing my fence, I wished I wasn’t so independent. Every now and again, I wouldn’t mind someone else taking care of things like this and doing the dishes for me. By ‘doing the dishes,’ I mean taking them in and out of the magic cabinet.
After a day of yard work, it was a relief to have Sleepless and Little Sleep pick me up and take me to a little resort town just East of my humble abode. Last week, Progressive and Iced Tea invited us to go skiing. I haven’t been skiing for at least 11 years, maybe 25. Sleepless went last year, but before that, it had been about 15 years. So, when they made the offer, we were all over it. As I told MyFace, “I want to make sure to get one ski day in before the end of the season.” She was laughing so hard she couldn’t respond; actually, now that I think about it, that was her response.
Iced Tea was kind enough to offer his condo to us for the night and we were polite enough to accept his gracious invitation. We arrived to find an incredible condo, just blocks away from the ski resort, equipped with cable television, an entire closet of ski equipment (which we would also be using), and a fully stocked bar (two mini bottles of vodka in the freezer).
The condo had two bedrooms and Sleepless had advised Little Sleep to pick a room. While Little Sleep was doing so, Sleepless whispered to me, “Do you mind if we sleep together? She kicks in her sleep and I don’t want to get kicked.” Having shared a bed with Sleepless on more than one occasion, I didn’t mind.
Just before going to bed we received an extremely entertaining phone call from S-Unit who was completely buzzed in Turks & Caicos. Poor thing was stuck in a luxury suite with mosquito bites all over legs and nothing but antibiotics and a red flag to alert the cabana boy that she needed another drink.
Once we made it to bed we were discussing our great amenities. “Only one or two things could make it better,” I told her, “A red flag and a cabana boy.” “That would be nice,” said Sleepless and added, “I could really get used to this kind of living.” “Yeah,” I said, “It’s not bad.” “No, really, I could be a kept woman,” she told me. “Me too,” I told her and added, “Why do you think I took Italian?” “I don’t know,” she responded. “Me neither, but the instructor told us there are a lot of kept women in Italy. So, I’m halfway there – I’m a woman.”