What she Wore: baggy jean capris, t-shirt from Qatar that the Hub brought back for me, brown leather sandals that I’ve had for about a million years. The t-shirt has a camel on it and reads, "operation Iraqi freedom, Qatar, desert paradise." My brother said I looked like a Republican, and I don’t think he meant that as a compliment.
Warning: This Blog is pg-13 (or maybe R)
Before I head off to the beach where my husband has banned all computers, blogging, etc. I will leave you with a funny beach story from years gone by.
When the Hub and I go to the beach, we go to a time share that his father bought years ago. Purchased during his Bachelor days, the place is basically one big room with a kitchen, one queen sized bed, and a queen-sized sleeper sofa. In the back there’s two sinks, a bathroom, and a really big closet. The listed occupancy is three, but we always squeeze in four or five.
I am a very light sleeper and it’s always a bit of a struggle for me to sleep especially with all the smacking, snoring, grunting, etc. that other people do in their sleep. On this last trip it became especially bad.
In the middle of the night I begin to hear a grunting sound: Uh, uh, uuuuuh.
"Oh my God," I think, "someone is having sex in this condo."
This is like a nightmare for me. I lie there frozen trying to figure out what is going on. Meanwhile, I hear:
I discern that the sound is coming from the giant closet in the back of the condo. The only person who’s supposed to be back there is my husband’s best friend who’d decided to throw down an air mattress back there. HE’S ALONE! This could be worse than I thought. The grunting gets louder and louder. . I’m wondering if he picked up some hootchie on the beach, but I don’t hear a second person. I am totally freaked out.
THEN HE BEGINS BANGING ON THE WALL.
I almost died. Clearly this is some kind of personal moment and I have no business intruding. I screw my eyes shut and try to sleep (or pretend to sleep).
I then hear a few gasps and the sounds stop. It was as if it had never happened.
The next day, after emerging from the closet (that sounds funny), the best friend says, "I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamed I was stuck in a dump truck. I even got up and started banging on the wall trying to find a way out. I didn’t realize I was in the closet until my hands hit the hangers in that closet."
Can you say WHEW?
This trip is always an adventure.
Enjoy your fourth, and consider the "What she Wore" for this week to be: swim suit, sun hat, flip flops, and a ton of sun block.