Every morning lately – when I’m about done with my shower – I call for Kamel to bring me my towel. He comes and stands on the other side of the shower current while I ring out my hair and we chat about whatever or sometimes we sing whatever song we’ve made up the words to for that day. Every single time, without saying a word about it before hand, as I pull the shower curtain back, Kamel springs the towel at me, throwing it full force and widely open onto my person like a giant net. Then! He proclaims he has got himself a Lornax (that’s me) and we both laugh, I step out of the tub and we continue with our morning routine.
Lately I have been sleeping with infinity amounts of pillows for various propping reasons. I am also having ridiculously sore left back ribs (pre natal masseusing happening on Friday and I am sta-oked about it). This means that sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night to pee, I need Kamel to scoot around to my side and help me out of the bed. I am not only pregnant I am 102 years old. A few nights ago I rubbed his back to wake him up, having a particularly painful rib evening, because I had to pee. Kamel’s response was to whip around to face me and ask in rapid succession: “Que necesitas?! Que necesitas?!” Which… in my sleepy state appeared in my ear-brain as something about “senoritas.” But instead of saying, “Huh?” Or just repeating what I needed, I (just as rapidly) poked him in the chest with my elbow three times. Each time saying, “Stop. Being. Crazy.” Finally, I said again that I needed his help to the bathroom and instead of coming around to lift me out Kamel started to push me off the bed in a very pathetic, yet heartfelt way. Finally after I said “Stop pushing me!” he woke up enough to jump out of the bed and shuffle around to my side and lift me out.
Yesterday I really wanted Ben and Jerry’s New York Fudge Chunk because I heard them talking about it on the radio the other day and hot damn I loved that ice cream when I was a kid and I would MOURN that last bite. Anyways – Kamel hippity hopped over to Safeway on his lunch break and read me every goofy B&J flavor name in the freezer section over the phone. Let me tell you, having phrases like “Chubby hubby” and “Clusterfluff” pop up in a long line of carmel/chocolate/peanut butter varieties… day maker right there. Especially with Kamel’s straight face of all-ice-cream-business-all-the-time-ness. Excellent.
It’s so often about the little moments that fall between the job, the obligations, the chores, the evening TV. Here are some other favorite small bites from the rest of my relationships (And then I’m dying to hear some from you).
- Sending my mom a picture of Kamel wearing running shoes/jeans/hoodie because jesus … did my husband and my dad go to the same fashion school? I shake my head at how similar they are sometimes. Ridiculous…ly awesome.
- Texts from Maris of her long laundry list of stuff she ate that day. A bacon cheeseburger and various other delicious noms top the list. One of them being a “skinny cow chocolate” something or other. I reply, “Well thank god it was a skinny cow.” Days later I send her a picture of me buying an old fashioned donut (the best donut imaginable). Because yes, this is our relationship: Fashion links and fatty foods. Bring it on world.
- My co-worker giving me her daily oatmeal report for a week. The most absurd but awesome unasked for activity ever. “So today I tried soy milk and I skipped the nuts and craisins… nope, nope…. something tastes weird. Tomorrow I think I’ll try regular milk, but microwave it in water first… I think that will be better.”