Raw Drip

After spending many hours catching up on lost sleep from Saturday’s marathon of a day, Dick and I cuddled in our plastic-covered bed listening with delight to the sounds of a grandmother trying to entertain her rambunctious grandkids.

Hearing Adam apply guilt in a shameless attempt to score pre-breakfast candy, I struggled to get out of bed. “I should go help her out. Little demons are tag-teaming her for candy…”

Dick held my wrist firm.

“No way. You’re staying here with me. How else is she going to bond with her grandkids if we keep interfering?”

“Hm. Maybe you’re on to something there…”, I said sliding back into bed, snuggling in my husband’s arms.

Dick kissed my neck and whispered, “You know what would make this perfect?”

“A bed that doesn’t sound like we’re sleeping in hazmat suits everytime we roll over? Decent coffee? WiFi?”

As his hand carressed my cheek he smiled. “I guess this is just one of those no sex, bad coffee, loud plastic-covered bed, no privacy kind of vacations.”

“Yep. So let’s stop fooling ourselves into thinking we can have sex in this ridiculously tiny, very noisy bed and go enjoy the other benefit of grandmothers…the food!”

Pancakes, fruit salad, & homemade bread. Oh my!