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By JD Date: 2004 Jul 25 Comment on this Work [[2004.07.25.02.12.24414]] |
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My dad doesn't understand why I'm with you. He thinks you're some pretentious coward just because you refused to have a beer with my brother and his cronies, and drive home drunk afterwards. He doesn't get you like I do. No one does really. No one gets the fact that you like to enter the room, gyrating your hips, as if you were a Chippendale dancer, just to get a giggle out of me. God I love it when you make me laugh like that. I love that you have no serious fetishes. I don't have to wear any leather, or handcuffs, and you stay the hell away from my feet. I would kick you if your lips ever came close to my baby toe. I love that our relationship is devoid of all that self-sacrificing, irrational kind of crap that eventually leads to the beginning of the end. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you. I just don't think we need to engage in soliloquies about our passion for each other. I love that you can talk for hours. Is there no end to your stories about hookers and alley fights? You keep my friends amused which saves me from the exhausting task of being the host. So when my dad asks me why I'm with you, I think of all these things, but because I'm still Daddy's little girl, I merely say, "He owns a rice cooker." Because, I, on the other hand, just use a pot. |