I Said It Felt Like a Mole on His…
Posted on May 30, 2013
The difficulty with trying to say something significant in a previous blog post is always in coming up with something worthy for the post following it. There’s only so much soul-wrenching material I can pull out of myself at a time. But there have been a few things that have happened since I last wrote. One fun item involves the Loganite sinking her fangs into a little jest from my friend Jeff, who admitted he thinks of me as a Ken doll. That’s a unique writer’s way of saying he doesn’t see me as a sexual being. It’s okay, though. I know the truth and there’s a reason why my hubby has looked at me many times over the last 18 years and said “There’s no chance of you topping me tonight! I want to walk in the morning.”
Now, I’ve been accused of being many things over the years, but a Ken doll? That’s kind of new and exciting. I say exciting because, let’s face it, I can’t always be a piece of meat or object of sexual desire for everyone. There just isn’t enough of me to go around. That and I’m picky. And other people should just stay away from sharp objects just in case.
I do remember a friend of mine becoming quite incensed many years back and accusing me in front of several mutual friends about something to do with his boyfriend.
“You told (name withheld) that my boyfriend has a mole on his penis!”
Well, that was simply not true and I was quite insulted by the accusation. It even prompted a response from me. I know, Heaven forbid I open my mouth and say something, right?
“That’s not what I said. I mentioned it FELT like a mole.”
And then everything was better. Honestly, don’t you hate it when people get something wrong, then spread it around? It’s just…insensitive.
The hubby has been home this week accompanied by his mother, my lovely mother-in-law. We were having dessert the other night and going over receipts that they dug up in his father’s files. There was one for when they got married and honorable mother-in-law started to reminisce.
“Can you believe my mother went with us on our honeymoon? She invited herself along. Awful!”
It’s at this point my husband started to snicker.
“She stayed at a hotel on the other side of the city, then called us the next day to say how unhappy she was there. She ended up staying in the same hotel with us for the rest of the time.”
It’s at this point that my husband choked on his tea. Far be it from me to not pipe up and throw my own two cents in.
“It could have been worse,” I offered. “She could have been sleeping in the next bed.” You know, kinda like mother-in-law did during our wedding week and on our wedding night. Now, Ralph didn’t mind because he’s a Vulcan and Vulcans only mate passionately once every seven years.
My mother-in-law didn’t get the joke, but she did promise not to come with us when get around to taking our own honeymoon sometime in the next decade. I assume it’ll happen after we finish the upgrades to the house.
Speaking of the house, it’s coming along, though very, very slowly. My hubby loves the color of the carpet and how it brightens the room when the sun comes through the window each day. Score one for the gweilo! And he loves the paint job. Score two for the gweilo! He also wants the basement completed as quickly as possible. The gweilo now needs pain medication. Oh, yes, he…er…I’ve spent the week moving things from all rooms encompassing the lower level of the house to the upstairs while they attempt to clear one single room on the upper level.
I believe in balance.
It ain’t happening. The problem, honestly, is that I’ve had a month to get used to working in the house, developing strategies for where things go and have a bit more detachment to the furnishings. Ralph and my mother-in-law aren’t quite there yet. This is their time for it to happen and, unfortunately, it’s slowing us down. It’s okay. This has to happen and it’s part of the healing process.
So there you have it. It’s almost the end of another week and, if I’m lucky, there won’t be anymore of those annoying rumors started in the meantime. Ken dolls and Ken bumps…really.
Kristoffer Gair (who formerly wrote under the pseudonym Kage Alan) is the Detroit-based author of Honor Unbound, A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To My Sexual Orientation, Andy Stevenson Vs. The Lord Of The Loins, Gaylias: Operation Thunderspell, several short stories featured in anthologies (to be combined in a forthcoming book), the recently re-published novella Falling Awake, its sequel, Falling Awake II: Revenant and Falling Awake III: Requiem.
9 Responses to “I Said It Felt Like a Mole on His…”
May 30, 2013 at 9:24 am
Very nice photo of the living room! But are those wooden pillars? A reason for them?
And we really must find a way for you to be a little more open about your sexuality and sexual exploits. Holding it all in isn’t healthy. (Now I must get into the shower to try to wash away mental images of penile moles. But thanks for sharing!)
May 30, 2013 at 11:21 am
I can’t speak to the hubby’s father’s taste in decor. I can only say what we are going to do with the place.
As for my exploits, don’t go spreading rumors, sir. I have admitted to NOTHING.
JP Adkins says:
May 30, 2013 at 9:26 am
I also, inadvertently, took photographic proof that you are anatomically correct and I never said you were not a sexual being, you just had no genitalia in my head. 😛 Then again, I had it removed from my Kris doll when I had it ordered from Hong Kong.
May 30, 2013 at 11:21 am
I still say I look better with the haircut.
May 30, 2013 at 7:34 pm
It always makes the head look bigger.
Patricia Logan says:
May 30, 2013 at 10:20 am
Heh heh heh.
Katherine T. says:
May 30, 2013 at 10:47 am
Oh, and “I said it FELT like a mole” is so much better. LOL! Love it!
May 30, 2013 at 11:22 am
May 31, 2013 at 9:27 am
“it FELT like a mole” is a classic reply.
Love the sitting room. What a fabulous fireplace.