What We Deserve

Jim and Emilea ended up leaving around 9:30 for their hotel- we insisted they simply stay with us since we have the space- but they also eluded to the fact that they wanted to 'spice' their vacation up and simply didn't want to disturb us.

Frankly Max was mortified, but I found it sort of sweet and funny.

Then I began trying to think of the last time Max and I 'spiced' things up with our routine.

We quite literally do the same thing basically every single day since we've been married and nothing about it says spicy. We haven't had sex in almost two years and half of that is due to babies in the bed and the other half is out of pure exhaustion.

We haven't gone on a date...actually like ever.

If I reflect on it correctly.

Never.

He never once took me on a date.

I finish painting my nails black and emerald green with a bit of sparkle on them and I come up to the bedroom- having already slid into my pajama shorts for the night and one of Max's white t-shirts slightly tucked into the front of the shorts themselves. He's already in bed, looking at his phone with the bedside table lamp on.

"Kids in their own beds?" I ask as I awkwardly try to get into the high bed without touching my still slightly wet nails to anything. I should have just set the hair dryer to low and dried them all the way, but I honestly didn't even want to bother dragging it out for something so small and trivial.

"Yeah- Zep was beyond conked out and Luna actually put herself to bed. Front and back door is locked and the house is secure." He state and turns his phone off. Rolling onto his side, he's just in his compression boxers- which is different.

Most nights he's in basketball shorts or pajama bottoms and a shirt.

But just underwear tonight.

Huh.

Interesting.

"Well, that's great. King bed all to ourselves." I state and try to adjust- the nails making me paranoid that I will ruin the hard work I just took nearly ten minutes to do.

"Nails wet or your hands hurt?" He asks as I gently shake my hands from side to side.

"Wet. Wanted to paint them tonight so I didn't have to try and do it in my office tomorrow on lunch. It never fails, every time I sit down to break- someone is in a crisis."

"Well...babe it is a hospital."

"Yes- well by OSHA standards, I'm required to take breaks for my own mental and physical health."

"That is true...so just tell the people to go away."

"You're the people Max..."

"What?"

"You come in on my lunch everyday and ask me to consult this patient or help in the ED or check on the kids cause you think Zep has a cough."

"Oh...." He quietly stares at me and I don't think he realizes what he does. "Well...I'm sorry. I'll try not to come in on your lunch."

"Don't get me wrong, Babe- I love seeing you- but if it was just for pure enjoyment or out of wanting to see me and talk to me like you used too- it would be less...bothersome."

"Bothersome." He repeats and now rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling.

"You're not bothersome. The tasks are bothersome."

"I'm sorry."

"Max, don't be upset. You can come burden me anytime you want-but if it's work related...please...at least wait until the end of my lunch. Give me a good twenty five minutes to just breathe." I state and all he can do is nod.