O-H-I-O

My wonderful, charming, better-than-your boyfriend made a spur of the moment decision to come visit me this weekend despite his less than reliable transportation. This was wholey unexpected because this was the weekend of the OSU, Michigan game. Man Friend's original plans included spending the entire weekend in Columbus getting shit-faced drunk and completely forgetting he ever had a girlfriend.

But he DID NOT forget and drove all the way down here to share in the glory of college football with this non-believer. An obvious consequence of this surprise visit involved me spending four hours watching football, but I have to confess it was worth it (and from this moment on I will deny ever saying that despite irrefutable evidence to the contrary).

Now, funny thing. Despite the fact that professional drinkers (Tiff and Trini) could EASILY drink Man Friend under a table, he doesn't often get drunk. HOWEVER, things just worked out Saturday during the game that there was enough time between the pancakes I made him for breakfast (at noon) and the pizza Danny ordered for the game come 6ish that around halftime, he leaned over and stage whispered in my ear that he was, in fact, drunk. I'm not sure how quickly his body metabolizes alcohol, but that apparent admission was enough excuse to allow for an ENTIRE NIGHTS WORTH of sticking a clean or often times otherwise finger under my nose and demanding I sniff it. Not exactly star boyfriend action.

I know what you're thinking. Why would I put up with that? Well, for starters, I started it. Not THIS time, but I am the one who first stuck a finger under his nose and demanded he sniff it. Second, he's bigger than me and if he can pin me down for raspberries, he can certainly do the same for a tainted finger.

Besides, I got him back this morning.

It so happened that I had to be up (relatively) early to work my last day in retail hell. Rather than get up with me and leave immediately, Man Friend decided to remain in bed and get a little more caught up on sleep before the long hike home. I was forced against my will to leave the nice, cozy warmth of my bed and my reward was icy cold hands. Usually, when I'm alone, I'll press my hands between my thighs to warm them, but this method is uncomfortable and why use my thighs when I could use his? Sweet, juicy revenge was mine as he writhed and whimpered under the frosty bite of my touch.

The crop dusting I was doing the night before didn't hurt either.