Wednesday, 30 April 2014

Grown Up Fantasies

Oh, come on, I think we know each other well enough NOW, don't we?

How long's it been?  6 months?

I think it's time to take our relationship to the next level.

Let's enter the bedroom...

Before any non-parents get too excited by the idea of "bedroom" and "fantasy", please note: the reason parents of young children tumble in to bed together at the end of the day is not ye olde rumpy pumpy.  But to slumpy with a thumpy (usually feeling grumpy).

Before children, my bedroom related fantasies would contain at least one of the following (1) el husbando (2) Monsieur Clooney/or similar and of course (3) hanky panky.

Now, I'm going to the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind and I'm going to reveal all.

It's time to enter the 'fantasy' portal of the Harvey brain:

You are entering a bedroom.  The walls, ceiling and curtains are white; the bed is white, with freshly laundered sheets.  The floor is a natural wood, with a white, fluffy rug.

On the bed there is a pair of pyjamas and a note.  Slip into the pyjamas - ah yes! you like that, don't you? - and, with trembling fingers, open the note.

It reads: you may sleep, uninterrupted in this silent, peaceful haven for as long as you wish, and until your energy is entirely restored.  You will not awake worrying or to the sound of screaming and/or vomiting.  You will sleeeepppp, SLEEEEPPPPPPP, SLLLLEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP...


Unfortunately, I'm a realist, not a fantasist...

No comments:

Post a Comment

Follow by Email