Stephy, her body, the curve of her neck, the sway of her hips. The lips only I was lucky enough to kiss. The sensation of her lips on mine, her eyes, my home.
Motherhood was physically kind to her. Her breasts exploded. Although she complained of not being able to jog properly anymore, I was in heaven. Throughout our marriage, I had gotten the best of all worlds, nipples, plump, pink and firm that grew with my touch and then voluptuous curvy face bouncers and hips to grab.
Of course she had her insecurities. Gravity is a woman's worst enemy because it ensures cellulite and sagging. Every time she complained, poked and prodded I would ask, "but what sculpture wants to cast a sinewy body?"
"You forget I used to be all sinew."
"Even then," I said. "Your ass was perfect and your nipples have always been my pleasure."
I loved the sexy conversations we used to have in the morning. I can't tell you how many times I nicked myself while shaving. Glancing over as she put her leg on the toilet seat to dry off and her delicious ass cheek peeking at me. Just the slight turn of my eyes, so I could see better and I would cut myself. She handed me a square of toilet paper. "Can we please open the bathroom door because it's too steamy in here? I can't see to shave."
And our sons. I would have been so lost without her omniscient sensitivity. I remember once I was standing by the dresser drawers in my socks, boxers and suit shirt. Stephy was still in her robe about to go downstairs and check on the boys when Brendan swung our bedroom door wide open. I don't remember how old he was, but it was still in the days of cartoon underwear, so he must have been pretty young.
"Dad, how much money do you make?"
"Well," I said putting on my glasses, thinking about it. "It depends. It varies."
"Harris," Stephy chimed in. "Why are you asking this?"
"Yeah, Do you need something?"
"No, I just want to know." And he put his hands in the air like he did when he was either asking an existential question about the universe or a silly question to prolong the pain of a doing a chore or a nonsensical question that he knew we couldn't answer, but he didn't care.
"So, how much?" he pressed.
"Listen, Mr. Spiderman," I said.
"Dad, it's Superman. I'm Suuuupermaaaaaaaan!"
"O.K. Mr. Superman. Go and find a calculator." I mentally started calculating the ups and downs of the year as if I could give him a figure. I started thinking about taxes.
"Where's a calculator?"
"Well," Stephanie said scooping him up into her arms. "I don't think you will be needing a calculator until you tell us why you want to know such a thing."
"Because, I just do. I just do." He insisted.
"Are any of your toys being held hostage?"
"No."
"Harris doesn't happen to be making you breakfast, is he?"
"I'm not supposed to tell you. There is a surprise," he said as he jumped off of Stephy and barelled back down the stairs into the kitchen only to report back minutes later.
"So, what's he making?"
"Toaster waffles. You just put them in the toaster."
"Ahhhhhhhh with lots of powdered sugar I bet."
"I don't know mom." Brendan was never a good liar.
"Don't you see what's going on here?" Stephanie looked at me like I should've known exactly what was going on, but I had no clue.
"Brendan go back downstairs and tell Harris only one of the small spoons of powdered sugar on every waffle or I am going to wash them off." And Brendan dutifully ran off back downstairs.
"He's not a dog, you know?"
"Of course, he's not a dog. He's just the plot master for our other son."
"O.K. mom."
"O.K.?"
"He says O.K."
"Now, you tell Harris if the reason he wants to know how much money daddy makes is so that he can divide that by four, so that he can decide what portion of daddy's money is his, which I'm sure is enough to buy whatever new video game he thinks he needs, you tell him that is not how this family operates. Honey, you know what I think?"
Now, that I was dressed it all made sense. We heard Brendan downstairs trying to repeat some of what Stephanie said, but he must have forgotten it all because all we heard was. "SUGAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Boys not too much!" Stephanie yelled. "Honey, you know how handsome I think you are in a suit, but the mouth wide open thing isn't very becoming." God, how did she know that? What an amazing creature! How vivacious and smart! "If I promise to keep my mouth closed, will you still love me?"
She laughed. And we kissed. And we laughed.
Motherhood was physically kind to her. Her breasts exploded. Although she complained of not being able to jog properly anymore, I was in heaven. Throughout our marriage, I had gotten the best of all worlds, nipples, plump, pink and firm that grew with my touch and then voluptuous curvy face bouncers and hips to grab.
Of course she had her insecurities. Gravity is a woman's worst enemy because it ensures cellulite and sagging. Every time she complained, poked and prodded I would ask, "but what sculpture wants to cast a sinewy body?"
"You forget I used to be all sinew."
"Even then," I said. "Your ass was perfect and your nipples have always been my pleasure."
I loved the sexy conversations we used to have in the morning. I can't tell you how many times I nicked myself while shaving. Glancing over as she put her leg on the toilet seat to dry off and her delicious ass cheek peeking at me. Just the slight turn of my eyes, so I could see better and I would cut myself. She handed me a square of toilet paper. "Can we please open the bathroom door because it's too steamy in here? I can't see to shave."
And our sons. I would have been so lost without her omniscient sensitivity. I remember once I was standing by the dresser drawers in my socks, boxers and suit shirt. Stephy was still in her robe about to go downstairs and check on the boys when Brendan swung our bedroom door wide open. I don't remember how old he was, but it was still in the days of cartoon underwear, so he must have been pretty young.
"Dad, how much money do you make?"
"Well," I said putting on my glasses, thinking about it. "It depends. It varies."
"Harris," Stephy chimed in. "Why are you asking this?"
"Yeah, Do you need something?"
"No, I just want to know." And he put his hands in the air like he did when he was either asking an existential question about the universe or a silly question to prolong the pain of a doing a chore or a nonsensical question that he knew we couldn't answer, but he didn't care.
"So, how much?" he pressed.
"Listen, Mr. Spiderman," I said.
"Dad, it's Superman. I'm Suuuupermaaaaaaaan!"
"O.K. Mr. Superman. Go and find a calculator." I mentally started calculating the ups and downs of the year as if I could give him a figure. I started thinking about taxes.
"Where's a calculator?"
"Well," Stephanie said scooping him up into her arms. "I don't think you will be needing a calculator until you tell us why you want to know such a thing."
"Because, I just do. I just do." He insisted.
"Are any of your toys being held hostage?"
"No."
"Harris doesn't happen to be making you breakfast, is he?"
"I'm not supposed to tell you. There is a surprise," he said as he jumped off of Stephy and barelled back down the stairs into the kitchen only to report back minutes later.
"So, what's he making?"
"Toaster waffles. You just put them in the toaster."
"Ahhhhhhhh with lots of powdered sugar I bet."
"I don't know mom." Brendan was never a good liar.
"Don't you see what's going on here?" Stephanie looked at me like I should've known exactly what was going on, but I had no clue.
"Brendan go back downstairs and tell Harris only one of the small spoons of powdered sugar on every waffle or I am going to wash them off." And Brendan dutifully ran off back downstairs.
"He's not a dog, you know?"
"Of course, he's not a dog. He's just the plot master for our other son."
"O.K. mom."
"O.K.?"
"He says O.K."
"Now, you tell Harris if the reason he wants to know how much money daddy makes is so that he can divide that by four, so that he can decide what portion of daddy's money is his, which I'm sure is enough to buy whatever new video game he thinks he needs, you tell him that is not how this family operates. Honey, you know what I think?"
Now, that I was dressed it all made sense. We heard Brendan downstairs trying to repeat some of what Stephanie said, but he must have forgotten it all because all we heard was. "SUGAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Boys not too much!" Stephanie yelled. "Honey, you know how handsome I think you are in a suit, but the mouth wide open thing isn't very becoming." God, how did she know that? What an amazing creature! How vivacious and smart! "If I promise to keep my mouth closed, will you still love me?"
She laughed. And we kissed. And we laughed.
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