One Pathetic Pig posted 7/17/2008 2:50:35 PM | 3 kudos what's this?     report abuse

SaintBacon

Mrs. Bacon has left me.

Thank God it's only for 6 days!

We've been together for 27 years now. Shortly after we married, she had to go to the hospital for back surgery. Though I visited with her everyday and evening, I hated going home at night alone. It was excruciating. I missed feeling her warm body next to mine, missed the pillow talk, the smell of her hair as we cuddled, missed that first kiss in the morning...bad breath be damned, missed making her laugh during breakfast by doing something totally silly in an attempt to get her to blow her cereal milk through her nose. The list goes on.

Since then we have been apart for a few days here, a few days there. One or the other of us in the hospital, or on a business trip.

And every time I would throw myself a little pity party...because I still hated it. It was still excruciating.

This time she's in Indy for a conference. Six days of e-mails and phone calls. Six days of having no one to cuddle, save her three cats and Spike, her Jack Russell Terrorist, who has a VERY unnatural relationship with one of the cats. They are a pretty piss-poor substitute for someone I have loved for over a quarter of a century.

For one thing, they don't smell very good. The cats smell like badly prepared fish, and Spike smells like a dog that's been having sex with cats that smell like badly prepared fish. They can't carry on pillow talk conversations without licking their nethers (which I find pretty rude...damn show-offs!), and they have a very annoying habit of parking themselves on my chest or head...which leads to dreams of having a cardiac event...or drowning in an ocean of fur....frankly I prefer dreams of Helen Hunt.

Mrs. Bacon always asks her menagerie to "look after" the Saint. I don't have the heart to tell her that they fail miserably at their assigned task.

Tonight we will talk on the phone and bring her up to date on all the doings in Manhappiness. We'll tell each other how much we miss being together and make disgusting smoochy sounds into our phones...and tomorrow I'll tell myself - "just 3 more days".

Why? Because 27 years later, it's still excruciating and I still throw myself a little pity party. And because I am one pathetic pig...

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