Okay, We Won’t Call It Porn

A couple of years ago my daughter gave me one of those porn-for-women books as a Christmas present.  One of the nicest gifts ever, full of cute guys doing laundry and dishes.  Yes, it’s that sad;  a man doing domestic chores is our greatest turn-on.  Nearly universal.

Except that this morning I looked in on the puppycam.  Do I do this often?  Let’s put it this way:  I look at it often enough that Chrome auto-fills as soon as I type the “U.”   Breakfast time for Yuuki.  Nice enough.  Yuuki is so appealing and so polite when she eats – no gobbling, no spilling, finishes everything.  Pleasant, and maybe better than watching my own dogs spit out their new, super-healthy, super-pure, super-expensive kibble with salmon and carrots, which they hate.

Then Yuuki and her bowl left and in came – hm, I didn’t even notice which dog it was.

Because about the same time SFShiba made the dogs’ bed.  Talk about appealing.  Talk about really really appealing.  A man who kneels, takes off the old bedding and gets out the new. Take deep breaths, because this is way better than any number of shades of grey.  He shakes out the new cover.  He lays it lovingly atop the white mattress.  He tucks it in on one side.  There are no wrinkles.  He smooths it, tucks it in on the other side.  Then he makes sure the sides are tucked too.  He smooths it one more time.  He leans into view, earnest, focussed, bespectacled so as to get things perfectly even.

While I get my breath back, I’m going to talk about how the man I know best makes a bed. Tuck in?  And the sheets are fitted, too, so what’s to tuck?  Sometimes I ask for help in putting a clean cover on the comforter.  This requires finding the corners of each, a feat outside the normal man’s range of skills. “Like this?” he asks, sweetly.  You have to match the corner of the comforter to the corner of the cover I say, again, as evenly as I can manage.  Then I usually say, as evenly as I can manage, that’s okay.  I can do it.  And he’s so glad to be relieved of this chore because it so often ends badly, with me shrieking about all you have to do is match the corners!  Really, all you have to do is match the corners.  Seriously.  Is there something in the male dna that can’t match corners?  You find a corner, and you find another, matching corner!!

But not only does the big guy get the dogs’ cover smoothed out and perfectly tucked;  that would be an incompletely made dog bed.  He also looks around for the right toys to put in the bed.  Some are passed over, others chosen.  He places them, he does not toss.  He checks a squeaker on one (no non-functioning squeakers!), then lays it against the edge of the bed.  This is the equivalent of patting the neck pillows into place after you’ve made the human bed.

And finally, satisfied with his work, he rises from a kneeling position without any sign of creakiness.  This is as appealing an accomplishment as anything I’ve seen in recent years.  We can’t hear if he groans or grunts, but I’m going to say he doesn’t.

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s