Cohabitation: abomination in the eyes of God?

Excerpts from playing house with The Boy, Day One:

Nothing, I repeat, NOTHING, in the Slinky life is easy. Remember Bangkok? Press play, repeat.

To wit: we got hit by a fuckin' Jaguar.

Yeah, that's right. Somewhere between moving only half our stuff and trying to get dinner because we were starving, some motherfucking asshole with too much money and a commensurate lack of sense rear-ends us while we're less than five minutes away from our destination because the idiot (a) assumed that the traffic was moving and (b) was checking out his phone instead of keeping his eyes on the fucking road.

"WHAT THE BLEEDING FUCK WAS THAT?" I yelled, a split second after impact threw me forward. I'm terribly graceful under pressure, I know. Shutup.

Plans for the rest of week are now somewhat in shambles. No more driving off to get seafood so The Boy can cook. No waking up at the last possible minute so we can drive to work. No leisurely trips to the beach post-dinner. No more getting The Only Friend's laptop so that we can both work at the same time. Noooooooo.

Asshole.

At dinner later, The Boy and I have to laugh about it because otherwise we'd cry. This kind of thing only happens to us, I swear to god.

"I think it's because it's so good that karma needs to redress the balance somehow," I theorized grumpily.

Either that or God is down on this cohabitation shit and that Jag was a holy smiting.

But we finally got our act together and we've moved in, and I thoroughly enjoy living with The Boy. Mainly because I get to live like a man. I slept while he mopped the floor, cooked us something to eat, washed up, and finally, carried me to bed. When I woke up I smoked and drank, and generally acted like a slob, then I made him take off his shirt while we worked out. He's promised to cook me steak and pasta tonight for dinner. I feel like I should be slapping his tush and yelling at him to get me a beer. And I got to SLEEP. Fabulous.

There were a few hitches, though.

The Boy: "Hey babe, do I need to mop again with water after this?" (while mopping the balcony)
Slinky: "No."
The Boy. "Okay. Um, how much soap do I need to put in?"
Slinky: "Not too much. Holy god, how much did you put in?"
The Boy: "It was according to instructions! So what do I do about my feet?"
Slinky: "Do you want me to do that??"
The Boy: "No, I can do it."

And Merlot! First chance I got I snuck Merlot into bed with me under the covers and he went to sleep. Awwww. It was so nice seeing him again, even though he did try to bite the living fuck out of the bowl I was using to wash him with.

Whiplash aside, I'm having so much fun it should be illegal.