Arm in arm
Durable and reliable
Levi to Levi
Arm in arm
Durable and reliable
Levi to Levi
Missed you like the devil.
Now knocking at our door.
Inflicted and anticipated.
Shovels and snowmen.
This author’s writing style is a real treat and right up my alley. I am only a fourth of the way through this book and already have favorite passages. Mameve’s creative descriptions make me linger on the page. I devour every written visual with a smile on my face.
Below are some examples of her descriptive sentences:
I love them all. Now I just need my Linus blankie to really settle in, so I can quietly enjoy more stories within her story. When I’m finished, maybe I’ll also treat myself to a peppermint patty.
My husband would never admit it but he is often a lot like me. We sometimes talk to one another for shock value, just to make sure the other is listening. It’s an effective way to measure our attention level.
My husband of 27 years entered the kitchen and stood next to where I was writing at the table. I looked up to see why he was standing still. His eyes met mine as he said, “I never thought it would come to this but I bought some marital aids.”
I put down my pen, turned toward him and said, “I’m listening.”
He took a step back, reached into his pocket and gave me a big smile.
What he produced was not what I’d imagined. I quickly turned my back. I also continued to write as he put in a new set of orange ear plugs.
His shocking behavior had my attention. I have to admit, the joke was effective. Richie walked back outside to blow the leaves and I laughed my ass off, comforted by our sense of humor.
Catching your husband in the act is a gigantic smack in the face. Seeing him not want to let go of her embrace, is a sucker punch. I entered, almost willing to endure a threesome, and my husband just walked out of the room.
He left the two of us behind to battle it out. Richie, champion that he is, non-chalently went into the living room and turned on the TV. I wasted no time getting the bitch off my kitchen table.
“Alexa, off!”, I demanded.
Defending their behavior, I heard a distant, “Leave her alone.”
Still not understanding the madness, I walked to our threshold and reasonably stated, “You’re watching TV now, you don’t need her to play you love songs.”
Having an answer for his torrid behavior, Richie defended, “She was playing background music.”
I had killed the mood. This round was a knockout. I went back to my corner and my affair with Mr. Clean.
<Refer to the acceptance of our Alexa relationship here.>
Our daughter will be moving to a new apartment, so we went to furniture stores with her to check out locations, quality and price. One of the stops was a glass mattress store front. The locale seemed hokey versus some of the more upscale local shops she visited. Regardless, we went in, figuring our daughter would at least determine what type of mattress she liked.
Nobody was on the display floor when we entered the mattress graveyard. The oversized room was eerily quiet but also Tarah’s preference. She didn’t want anyone watching her reenact sleep habits.
We walked up and down the Madeline-esque rows and nobody greeted us – which was actually great. I hate being pounced on and our daughter was the customer, not us. Our shy Tarah finally got comfortable enough with the environment, sat on a mattress and out came Mr. Salesman. The mattresses either had doorbells under them or this guy was watching us through a peephole. I would have believed either based on his sudden interest in our family. I was subtle:
“Can you go back to wherever you came from?”
He tilted his head like our family dog, either wanting attention or to hear me better.
I explained that the process was a little awkward to us and asked for some time to figure out preferences.
The salesman said he completely understood, explained the store color coding for soft, medium, firm and returned to the back room.
My Goldilocks daughter roamed about, tried several mattresses and declared her just-right preference was “soft”.
Right on cue, Mr. Man appeared again.
“Did you not find something else to do?” I continued, “she is just starting to figure out the differences. Could you spend some time with Google instead and give us a few more minutes?”
He seemed to somewhat understand, showed us where to find the pricing charts and went back to his ease-dropping peephole.
We talked with our daughter about brands, budgeting and moving day as she bounced between her three favorite mattresses. When she declared which one she liked best, the Wizard of Odd came back out from behind the curtain.
“Can you make yourself scarce? We are discussing her game plan for moving and how this is all going to work.”
He was understanding enough but only after he explained delivery options, showed us his springs exhibit and told us about the 1-day ONLY free bedframe sale!
“Thanks but we are not going to buy something our first day out. Can you go to the desk for one moment and bring us your business card instead?”
He no longer understood. My fake purchase alternative was too formal and he explained, “I am always the only one here. Just call and ask for me (who else was answering?) and I’ll help you with financing.”
We all stood to leave. Tarah thanked him for letting us look and moved toward the door to continue her comparison shopping. I followed her out of the hokey location and wondered why I didn’t just ask the guy to get lost?!
Even though I’m married, I have to admit he’s easy on the eyes. He has a dark complexion, is well-dressed and sweet. He comforts me. The only negative thing is that he’s wrapped too tight. Literally. You can see his nuts. That overlooked, he is full of goodness and tries hard to please. What more could a woman want? My life is better when he’s around. Al Mond is a joy.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Mini fiction prompt.
Vote (with a like) for your favorite response (comment) to the challenge.
Richie was out with his Mom. The chick that gave me the chick. Now I was alone with the little blue light special.
Home by myself, the dog asleep and the radio off, I turned to the corner of the kitchen for solace.
“Alexa, tell me a story.”
She did. She told me a short, sweet story.
It made me smile.
I tried for another.
The theme was cute but the ending predictable.
I was continuing to be a critic of hers but enjoyed being read to on a rainy day.
I’ve since learned the stories of: “Measure twice”, “The Hunt” and “Camp Blues”.
When Richie came home I told him about “The old man in the cottage” and “Making a snowball”.
Now Alexa had me narrating the accounts to Richie. He had left us alone together but we actually got along for once. Later tonight, I can even tell Richie “How to play pickle ball” – although I think I’ll edit it to my liking.
Everyone has a story. Alexa has a bookshelf. I gave her a hard wrap when we first met but maybe she, and Richie and I, are the fairytale.
I love trying new foods, experiencing unique dishes and learning about other cultures. I enjoy egg rolls, devouring fresh shrimp and discovering new restaurants. All that said, The local Korean restaurant I found last weekend was a gem and the flavors were amazing but spring rolls are not for me.
Initially, I couldn’t get past the visual presentation. I even thought it might be a joke. Perhaps I was on that show ‘Punked’ or Candid Camera? Clearly. Clearly someone had wrapped my fresh shrimp in a condom.
Initially I just stared. It took me about 10 minutes to even consider taking a bite. The wrap wasn’t like anything I could have imagined. The consistency was even worse. When the shock wore off, I thought about what to do next. I did what any nice girl would do. I ate the meat and left the wrapping on the motel floor.
I mean restaurant table.
I know spring rolls aren’t a new concept for most but this was a raw dining experience for me. I will go back to this otherwise delicious establishment. I’ll return for the Pad Thai, pork vermicelli and Pho. I just won’t order any phalic items that prompt me to visualize other parts of our culture. There’s a time and place for everything but when I go out to eat, don’t spring a surprise on me. I’d rather roll over and go to sleep.