Cabana Boy Chronicles
In a tip of the hat to my new title of “bored, frustrated housewife in search of a cabana boy,” I continue a new writing project, the Cabana Boy Chronicles. These could very well be stories completely contrived for your entertainment by a bored, frustrated housewife (who maybe wishes they were true). They could have some inspiration. Or they could be the starkest truth. Only the Cabana Boy knows for sure…
Something just isn’t right with your pathetic outlook if your happiness hangs in the balance of receiving a reply to an e-mail before the end of the day.
That’s the thought I was having while standing in line in the grocery store reading some trashy celebrity gossip magazine that promised delightful photos of Hugh Jackman sans shirt. I’d forgotten which page the photos were on thanks to my constantly distracted mind and was flipping back to the table of contents as my little prince pulled his shoe off and hooked it over my head and across the isle.
Guess I’ll not be viewing Godliness after all, I thought as I put the magazine back and turn to retrieve the shoe. As I bent to pull it out from under the shelf of crackers, I got the distinct feeling I was being watched. Intently.
As I turned and stood, my gaze locked with perhaps the most unique pair of eyes I’d ever seen. At first, in the florescent light of the dairy section, they looked green. They were very much a hazel to green. But as he smiled I swore they were distinctly light brown around the pupils. Fascinating, I thought, then realized I was staring. He didn’t seem to mind.
Unfortunately, I immediately realized I’d made a morning run to the grocery store in a t-shirt, sweats, no makeup and my hair tied back. Sexy.
Yet he still held my gaze, seemly unaware of my ultimate lack of sex appeal, or the little person sitting in the grocery cart expertly removing his other shoe in an attempt to pitch a perfect game.
“I have a future pitcher I believe,” I held up the shoe in my hand and suddenly felt like a total idiot for having a complete lack of intelligent conversation and like a queen for the completely interested look he was giving me.
For an instant I imagined meeting him before a husband and kids came into my life. What would he be like, what would be do, how many times would he drive me to scream out his name in an out of control fit of passion.
When he spoke, it broke my spell.
“Finding everything you need mame?”
I glanced at his shirt and noticed the nametag for the first time. Barney.
“Yeah. Um, thanks,” I said. Just as I turned, my face met my son’s other shoe, head on. It was going to be another lovely day. I could just feel it.
{ 5 comments }
LOL!!! I can’t wait till my son figures out how to throw his shoes…he’s only just figured out he can take them off by himself 🙂
Twitter: Heligirl
January 7, 2011 at 12:37 pm
He, he. The true part of that story is Mr. Man is rather fond of throwing his shoes and socks around the grocery store. I now understand how shoes and socks get lost.
You mean there really is no dryer monster? 😉
Twitter: solarchief
January 7, 2011 at 3:40 pm
Most women use hankies or puppies to meet men… a toddler is unfair… can’t wait to see the ending… Come visit when you can…
Oh, just changed my blog to a domain address at http://mainstreamsolarcooking.com in case you want to fix your link.
Twitter: Heligirl
January 8, 2011 at 4:29 pm
Thanks Sharlene! Way to go with the new URL! The ending? I’m enjoying the ride…