The good news was that I had somewhere to go for the long weekend. The bad news was that I had somewhere to go for the long weekend. The boytoy’s parents have finally managed to blackmail him into returning home. I concede that it makes sense, financially. However, after several months I may find myself dating a five-year-old, because that’s how he acts after he’s been around his mother for very long. I hope it inspires him to finish school as quickly as possible, that way I can have my boytoy back with his usual twelve-year-old maturity level.
This would seem to open up the opportunity for more conjugal visits during the semester, however cuddling at his parents’ house is an extreme sport, requiring the sudden separation of two possibly entangled bodies (not that entangled, my dirty minded reader) the instant someone else entered the room. It does not make for a terribly relaxing visit.
The boytoy’s best friend’s family is quite a bit more relaxing, and we spent a significantly greater amount of time with them than his own family. I was all ready to be political with the boytoy’s parents (a shocking occasion), but the boytoy was still holding a grudge. Besides, the boytoy’s “second family” has a dog and about twelve cats. Animals are always an improvement to any house.
The boytoy also brought his new kitty back with him. The cat seems happier (read: quieter) in his new home, and likes to race along the hallway in the basement. The boytoy also finds it as a convenient way to keep his mother (she’s allergic) out of the basement, sneaky boy.
We had some fun, but it was a very short, long weekend.
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