So the days of terror are finished for the month, and once again Jessie made it out alive.  He’s a trooper.  I’m doing much better now as well, thank you.

Jessie was kind enough to provide tons of entertainment this past week in the form of being a clumsy goofball.  He seems to have lost knowledge that the area between his legs is sensitive and keeps accidentally smacking himself in that particular region.  Now look, I understand that that must hurt like a bitch, but when he’s talking and his hands are all animated and he’s telling me how a core duo processor works and he drops his hands to emphasize a particular point and it’s a total nut shot, I’m going to laugh until I cry.  I try to comfort him as he curls tightly into a ball, asking repeatedly what the hell is wrong with him, but I simply can’t get over how incredibly funny the whole things is.  I’m awful, but it’s ok, you can still like me.

Don’t confuse yourself and think that Jessie doesn’t get an extreme amount of entertainment on my behalf.  He seems to think that my ass is some sort of toy.  And depending on my shirt, my boobs go into the toy category as well.  I’ve gotten into the habit of walking past him as fast as possible with my hands covering my butt so he doesn’t smack it as I walk by.  I’ve also come to realize that cleavage to Jessie means “Oh she wants it tonight,” so I have become a fast fan of turtlenecks.  It may not be as funny as a nut shot, but constant ass grabbing and boob massaging can be torturous.

P.S. Of all the male significant others out there, how many have to trim their nipple hair?

That’s right folks, this is the week all husbands dread…….my monthly visitor has arrived for a nice 5-7 day stay.  I haven’t been terribly mean quite yet.  I’m sure Jessie would say that I’ve just been grumpy and irritable.  Let me translate that for you:  Every time Jessie looks at me,

“What are you looking at?!?  I hate it when you stare!”

Every time he tries to recommend an activity for us to do in the evenings,

“Why do you always have to be entertained?!?  I hate it when you talk!”

Everytime he tries to comfort, touch, kiss, or hug me,

“Stop groping me! All you ever want to do is have sex!”

Jessie usually spends these happy days hiding behind the couch, trying to be as motionless and quiet as possible.  When he is like this it is harder for me to detect him.  I usually wander over and sniff him every now and then, but then I find something more suitable to destroy.