Reading my blog, some may think that Blake is a poor victim of his alpha/vegetarian/pants-wearing wifey. That Blake, the cartoon-watching, eyelash-batting, sweet-talker of a man simply exists in a sweet cloud of joy that is blackened only by my dark thunder. Alas, this is not the case. I have compiled a few examples in the past months…
He takes his devilish victories wherever he can get them. Like pestering me to buy pop when we grocery shop. Sometimes I'll give in if he bats his eyelashes just right. He knows he has to share though. :) The stipulation used to be it could only be sprite or root beer (because no caffeine). He chose root beer and got the Barqs brand. It was only when we got home that he told me, with evil satisfaction, that, outside Utah, Barqs is caffeinated. He quietly kept this bit of information to himself because he wanted the little buzz when he drank it and he knew he'd get to drink the bottle himself.
One morning, I was sleeping, happily dreaming of the delicious meals I would cook for Blake, the scrubbing I would do on his underroos, and the pampering I would bestow on that same Blake. All of a sudden, I opened my eyes and a red explosion burst before my eyes! Blake had punched me in the nose! I literally saw his big fist with the wedding ring I had bought for him flying at my face! Perhaps my nose didn't swell up and bleed like Blake's lip did when… *cough* never mind. But my world was shattered, even when Blake made up some lame excuse that he was dreaming of hitting a button. With the word "Jocelyn" on it. Hmmm.
Many nights ago, after watching a House episode on our computer, we turned off the lights to leave the room. Blake scampered like a rat to the hallway and crouched in the darkness waiting for me to pass by. I turned on the light and caught him there. He was so cute I had to laugh and bend over to kiss him. Aren't I sweet? I also took the opportunity to fill my tongue with saliva and scrape it over the bottom of his nostrils to fill them with spit. I couldn't NOT take that opportunity! He then proceeded to grab me and wipe his nose all over my shirt. I would call that revenge.
He wasn't done!
He then pinned me to the floor and commenced slowly licking up my cheek and then licking across my forehead in big, soaked licks. I was screaming and making crying noises at this point.
Then he grabbed my hands and summoned the rest of the spit residing in his head and licked my left palm and then my right.
Finally, Blake, the Ultimate Tormenter, ignoring my shrieking and violated gurgles, slapped my hands to my face and rubbed. Sicknast! He then left me there in the hallway. I was a ghost of the happy girl I once was. The smell of decaying and drying spit started to fill the air and all I could do was lay there and watch as he stood there with a twisted smile on his face.
And of course there's his new habit of waking me from my slumber in the middle of the night with the most violent of snores out of nowhere. They literally jolt me awake while he remains (somehow) snoozing soundly. And yet he'll yank me from my slumber if I smack my lips a few times, all indignant that I had gently roused him.
I was peacefully sleeping one morning when I felt a rustling right by me. I laid there for a minute and felt kind of strange. I opened my eyes and Blake was like two inches from my face with an evil grin on his face. I shrieked into consciousness.
Sometimes I'll go into the bathroom to pee, right after I sit down Blake will unlock and open the door a crack. Despite my screaming and cussing, he'll stay to chat or pester me by putting his fingers under the door.
I'll be showering and he'll turn on the faucet. I'll yell at him (because I know what's about to happen) and he'll toss a handful of cold water over me.
Or I'll turn around, mid-soap, in the shower, and see him peering evilly into the shower at me, trying to scare me. It always works.
We have a fan over our bed and we argue who has to pull the light chain before bed. Sometimes when I have to stand up to do this-it's on Blake's side of the bed and you have to stand on the bed to get to the fan-I'll turn off the light and Blake'll jump up and goose and tickle me when I'm most vulnerable.
Blake'll be showering and I'll need to pee, so I'll run in and tell/threaten him not to look. He looks. *Sigh* He didn't used to. Last time it happened he said, "I saw the relief on your face."
I make my own facial toner that has vinegar in it. Blake about dies every time I put it on my face. So we made a deal that I would make a different toner if he would stop being so breezy around me. *Smelly tooter* It's been a difficult road for him to adjust to being civilized, and unfortunately, even though I have kept my end of the bargain, he has difficulty keeping the air clean.
The times when we buy a dozen doughnuts at the fantasmic Krispy Kreme. We will get a variety and share the doughnuts to try them all. When he gives me bites, I'll take normal-sized bites so as not to hog the filling. *Angel* When he goes for a bite, it's monster-sized, right in the middle, AND he sucks up tons of the filling! *Devil*
I just wanted to be sure that my family realized the truth. The original Scott family must know what I am writing about. The real Blake.
