#1 IN COMEDY-ROMANCE
As soon as the door clicked, he removed his shoes and threw me on to the bed. Getting above me on all fours, he eyed me playfully. "This is for all the teasing back in the car", he said right before he crept underneath my dress...
"Lessie, have you seen my Yoda boxers anywhere?", I called out as I rummaged through my underwear drawer.
Normally, I wouldn't really worry about the type of boxers I wore, but a winking Yoda saying, kiss me, you will, always cracked Lessie up and put her in a good mood – no matter what the circumstances were.
Tonight, there was a hell of a good chance I'll need some of his charm.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Why? – because I was pretty sure she was not going to be happy with me totaling Oliver's face when I met him tonight at the house.
Oliver had been conveniently out of town on fieldwork for three weeks now, and he was finally back.
Was all forgiven and forgotten? Hell! No – I'm no Mother Theresa.
Was I turning into a jealous boyfriend? Probably.
An unhappy Lessie made up for either some really angry sex or no sex at all – the former I could deal with, the latter, not so much.
Mostly, because living together didn't really mean we were hyper sexed-up energizer bunnies all the time.
It also meant allocating chores, finding cleaning routines, splitting expenses, managing household accounts – all which needed time – time that could have been used for sex – but wasn't – because apparently, that's what adulting was all about.
So, if there was any possibility of wooing her with my Yoda charm, I was all for it.
"It's probably in the laundry basket, love", she shouted back.
Dammit.
Did I mention, I was in charge of laundry?
Lessie, for the love of God never separated the whites from the colors or the bed-sheets from the underwear for that matter – the concept were clearly too foreign.
Folding clothes was a whole other catastrophe – no wonder she needed a new wardrobe to fit all those hangers. Therefore, the chore allocation for this one was pretty obvious.
She did the cooking, I did the dishes and sometimes, the roles were reversed. However, fortunately for me, this seldom happened – unless some wooing was due.
By the looks of it, I might just have to make breakfast tomorrow.
Saving bills was probably the most frustrating part – Lessie was adamant that we split everything – rent, food, groceries, bills, dry cleaning, this soap she made me buy because it made my skin softer – you name it, it was split at the end of the month.
Honestly, I'd marry the woman if it meant we'd stop the damn splitting – but chances were, we'd end up having a joint bank account and she'll still want those damn receipts to tally everything at the end of the day.
