Half Drunk Challenge

I found this great challenge online called the Half Drunk Challenge and I thought what a great way to let go with my writing. I will admit that I started this stone sober at my clearest time which is at 5am but went back. So here goes:

I came home all dressed up after taking Brevitt to The Nutcracker Suite last weekend. “Hummada hummada you look beautiful”, Wade admiringly said and we lustfully stared into each other’s eyes. When I stare into Wade’s beautiful green eyes I am transported home to my favorite tree that I used to climb on when I was a little girl. I feel safe and secure and happy but this time his eyes began to smolder and spark as our signals that we were sending to each other to race upstairs and tear each other’s clothes off got tangled up with the noise of our three boys playing a game of hit and tackle in the living room. Once again our lustful intentions fizzled into thin air.

“If I can’t have you than I must get out of here,” Wade muttered breathlessly. After a day spent with his two rambunctious little ones he needed to let off some steam and so off he went into the freezing dark night to hike up the nearest mountain. “What about the mountain lions?” I asked as he walked off into the pitch black night. “Don’t worry my love, I’ll fight them all off with my Swiss army knife”, he laughed.

An hour went by and the boys got worried. Brevitt called Wade on his iPhone and as he held the phone up to his ear I saw his face turn white. Apparently Wade had answered the phone faking noise that he was being dragged off into the sage brush by a pride of mountain lions, “help, help me, they got me”, he cried. Funny he was not.

The truth is that Wade is not real. He is actually an alien sent down from outer space. Not an evil alien sent to examine my organs but an inquisitive, mindful alien disguised in a perfectly alluring and ruggedly handsome physique.

When we first got married occasionally I would wake up to find Wade raising his arms into the air in his sleep performing a strange motion with his hands. There it is, I thought, confirmation that he is not human. I’ll bet anything that right now he is communicating with his mother ship as he supposedly sleeps and I’m sure he’s telling them how truly wacked the people here on Earth are.

When I called him on it he laughed it off explaining that he had a nerve thing going on his arms from building.

I am not convinced. Nobody else but an alien would laugh and imitate an evil flame spitting dragon when roared at in the kitchen just because his big hulking body got in the way of somebody slightly resembling his wife before she was able to reach for the coffee.

The truth is, I am very happy being married to my alien who indulges my spontaneous whims and keeps me on my toes and even though he laughs hard at the things that I find the most repulsive and I think that he overplays the male impersonation by blowing his nose too loudly in the morning and performing the mating dance more often than the average Joe, I love him and I refuse to ever give him back.

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