Housework gone bad. . . in the best kind of way.
“Baby!” I called at the top of my lungs, for the third time.
“What?” I heard distantly, from somewhere across the apartment.
“Do you need any clothes washed? I’m putting a load in.”
I groaned, and set down the laundry I was sorting. “I said, do you need any clothes washed?”
“Oh, just come here!” I yelled, frustrated. He finally wandered into the room. “I said do you need any clothes washed because I’m throwing a load in.”
“You’re not wearing any pants.”
“I know! I’m doing laundry. DO YOU NEED ANYTHING LAUNDERED,” I repeated, over-enunciating each syllable.
“No,” he said, crouching down into a sumo wrestler stance, and added quietly, “Tickle monster,” sticking his hands out like claws.
“What? No, I’m doing laundry.”
“Tickle monster,” he said again, and took a step closer to me, an evil grin on his face.
“No! I need to do the laundry!” I protested, but I could feel myself smiling involuntarily.
“TICKLE MONSTER!” he yelled, running toward me in his weird, crouched, sumo wrestler position.
“NO!” I shrieked and ran all over the house, giggling and throwing small bits of laundry behind me to fend off the beast that was invading my apartment. He leaped over the couch and caught me. I shrieked and laughed as he attempted to tickle me and made bizarre growling noises in my ear. I managed to wriggle away, but was quickly tackled on the bed.
“Tickle monster!” he proclaimed again as I laughed and writhed, attempting escape. He pinned me down and made his favorite horrific face, with his mouth stretched as far as possible, and the tendons sticking out of his neck.
“Tickle monster,” he said again in a super serious frog voice.
“I’m gonna pee!” I yelled, desperate to end the tickle fight. I was horribly outmatched, and pinned into our super-squishy bed. “Seriously! I’m gonna pee!” I barely managed to wheeze out through laughter.
“No, you’ll be fine”, he said in his perfectly reasonable voice, as though he hadn’t just been making faces and chasing me. I thrashed and kicked, with tears streaming down my cheeks as he very delicately proceeded to stroke my arm pits.
“No, seriously, seriously! I’m gonna pee!” I shrieked, and he finally let me up with a huge grin on his face. I just lay there laughing, and wiping tears off my cheeks.
“So what did you want to ask me?” he asked, like he hadn’t just about made me wet myself.
“I said do you need anything to get washed, I’m going to do laundry.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m going to go back to my game now.” He gave me a quick kiss, and dashed off to his game console.