Time For Play

  My husband sits on the floor playing the stupid game I bought for his 30th birthday. I smack him over the head. He doesn’t move. I’m leaving,” I say. “Yeah.” “How do I look?” I bite my lip. My hair is curled and the bags under my eyes concealed. For once I feel sexy. “Good.” His eyes stay focused on the screen. Of course. I don’t have time for this. “Dinner’s in the oven. Leave the Xbox alone and[Read more]