I am listed as a blog that gives him a headache. Not sure why I am listed, though I can't resist sending a note to ask why. You've got to stop by.. his blog is hilarious.
He's a novelist, and so am I when I am not saving the world with my cape caught in the turbine. I'd love to use him as a character.
The whole girlfriend-needing-him-in-the-bathroom-while-she's-in-the-shower-because-of-a-past-trauma thing is just silly though. She threatened his balls if he becomes a metrosexual, yet he sits in the bathroom while she prattles on (as much as I do), calling him "Mister" and asking him to scrub her back. That's metrosexual, babe. Or because I grew up in neanderthal country another term pops to mind - "pussy whipped".
It's not that he's whipped or that she's scared that's the problem. It's that she isn't over it yet and forces him to be in there. What's she going to do when she has to be alone? What did she do pre Mister? What's she going to tell the kids someday when they have to sit on the toilet while she calls them Little Mister?
It's a funny thing about being grown up. It means you have to grow up. I've had trauma, and you can be sure I lock my doors and double check them again before bed. My first purchase after buying a house will be a security system. But I still have to move on with my day in grown-up land. It's not really about trauma - it's about using your goods to tame the boy and make him bend at your will. It's about feeling special enough that your man will take a few minutes to drop everything and sit with you. It's about wanting that captive audience while you're in the shower and your brain goes into overtime.
Then again, who am I to talk when I have 3 kids with a complete repertoire of potty humor they can evoke in seconds.
I STILL want to know what gave him a headache!
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