My Face Still Hurts

Grabbing for my purse, I immediately reached inside, frantically trying to find my phone.  Mr. Incredible was in the kitchen, talking to me a bit as I stood there in mid-freak-out.

Space inside a drawer! Space inside a drawer in his bathroom! was all I could think. As I found my phone, I looked down inside that drawer and saw that he had neatly and nicely arranged the few things he had purchased for me.  A toothbrush (pink), shampoo and conditioner. It barely took up a quarter of the drawer.

I think, looking back, it was then I calmed down. I did not text ShaNaNa. Instead I calmly replaced my phone and smiled at the pink toothbrush, because well, it was pink.  Heh.

I walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, setting my purse on the table. He was busy pouring me some Diet Coke when he looked over, grinned and said, “Is your freak-out over?”

“Heeeeeeeeeeey! I was entirely very quiet about my freaking out, how did you know?” I asked, utterly shocked. Clearly I’m not as smooth as I thought.

My Face Hurts

Yes, my face hurts.  But ladies, you know what I’m talking about … in the good way.

Which basically is another way of saying that I spent the weekend doing a lot of kissing with one Mr. Incredible. At his house. Like, together. No kids.

WOO HOO! I am no longer with hymen! (Pippi, I hope that answers your question from your previous comment! )

THANK THE GOOD LORD.

And in other news, when I arrived at Mr. Incredible’s house for the weekend, I immediately told him I had forgotten my toothbrush so if we could stop and grab one that would be great. He responded with, “It’s okay, I bought you one.”

*Blink*

“You bought me a toothbrush?” I asked.

“Yeah. And some shampoo and conditioner. I didn’t know what kind you use but the lady recommended this stuff,” as he led me to the bathroom and showed me the toiletries he purchased.  FOR ME.