Dear Butch,

I get frantic when I am rushed in the morning.  I just don’t do well with being pushed for time or when demands are placed on me before 8:00 am.  In fact, I don’t even want to speak to anyone ore mornings.  I want my time and space to get ready for my day, ready for my battle with gnarly traffic and bitchy co-workers.

And you, amazingly enough, get this.

You don’t get annoyed by my snooze-button habit or my plea for “five more minutes” over and over.  I get out of bed and stretch, slowly allowing whatever popping and cracking to occur without apology.  And, even though most mornings I wake up in your bed I am nude, you don’t push morning sex…even though you usually have a raging dyke hard-on.  I get to shower, apply, brush, dress, and grunt in peace while moving at a pace.  And then, as I am heading out the door you hand me my mug of tea and a breakfast type food (with extra paper towels) with my kiss goodbye.

I don’t have to battle you for the bathroom or play hip hockey for the toaster.  And for that, I am grateful for you.  Underneath my moans and groans and pouts, you should know I appreciate all you do for me before sunrise.




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