Thanks all, and a special thanks to Mojo for the lap dance! But let's go immediately to our embedded reporter, for the latest: Thanks, Hairdog. Last night was significant for the following conversation: W: So, Hairdog, do you want a cake? H: (thinking about yesterday's cake and icing thread on SSM and laughing to himself). Yes. W: Oh, Hmmmm. About 10 minutes later.... W: So, are you sure you want a cake? H: Uh, yes. W: Is it okay if I just go out and buy one? H: (Hdog goes manipulative here...probably a mistake) Well, I made one for your birthday. W: I'm not sure I'll have time. H: I took a couple hours off of work to make your cake. W: (getting angry) well, thanks, that makes me feel good. Your getting awfully demanding. (Here, I thought she was referencing my request that the only thing I wanted for my birthday was ML) H: Why do you say that? W: Because first you asked to go out to dinner, and now you're wanting me to make a cake. (Not only did I mis-read the reference to ML, I had already forgotten about wanting to go out to dinner. And, pardon me, what's so "demanding" about telling someone that, on your birthday you'd like to go out to dinner?) W: I'm starting to feel the same way about your birthday as you felt about your ex-W's birthday. (Now wait a sec. My ex required me to spend lots of money, and make not only the day special, but the entire week special for her. And she would rarely be pleased with the results. How is a cake and dinner like that?) Exit Hairdog, who goes downstairs, steaming, and realizes that his W is a fairly lousy cook. Enter Hairdog H: You know what, don't worry about making me a cake. A store-bought one is fine. W: (Relaxing) okay, it's just that you were really starting to lay the guilt trip on me and... H: (not wanting to go there because I'm sick of fighting and know that I didn't lay anything on her) let's not talk about it. A store-bought cake is fine.
No further conversation about birthdays or cakes ensued that evening.
No sex ensued this morning. A hug and grandmotherly kiss was given to Hairdog, however.
Oh, and when I got to work, my co-workers had bought a HUGE cake that I can take home, so I called W and told her not to buy a cake after all. She was fine with that.
Hairdog, who knows exactly where Effingham is, thank you.
