Sorry

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Bob awoke slowly. He pushed back the blankets and stretched a good, long, morning stretch as the chilly air hit him. He rolled over to face Carol. She was still sleeping soundly, a thin string of drool connecting the corner of her slightly open mouth to the pillow below. She looked silly. If she knew I was watching her, she would hate that, he thought. He smiled.

He rolled on his back, noting with pride the morning wood saluting him under the covers. Not bad for an old married dad, he thought proudly. He also realized that his bladder needed immediate attention. He climbed out of bed, wincing slightly as his feet hit the cold floor, and padded, still groggy, to the bathroom.

Attending to the business at hand, his brain and bladder clearing in concert, he gradually realized it was Saturday morning, the kids were gone, and he and Carol were at home alone with nothing planned until they picked up the kids from Grandma's tomorrow after church.

He smiled, more broadly this time.

He grabbed a quick drink of water, hoping to dislodge at least some of the morning funk in his mouth. He paused to admire his physique in the mirror, noting that the time at the gym was starting to pay off. He shuffled quickly back to the bedroom and climbed back into the warm nest of blankets.

Carol roused slightly and cuddled into him to share her warmth, a habit ingrained over their many years together. He brushed back the hair from her forehead and planted a light kiss.

"Hey there."

"Hey yourself."

"How you doin'?"

"Good. Still sleepy, though." She kissed the base of his throat.

"Guess what?"

"Mmmm?"

"It's just us, today. The kids are with Mom. We've got nothing planned. We could stay in bed all day if we wanted...." His post-pee-weakened morning wood perked back up a bit at the thought. Sure, they'd been making love for the better part of twenty years, but it was still a hell of a lot of fun.

"Mmm.... yeah, we could, couldn't we?" Carol slid her leg up and over his hip, snuggling in even closer.

Bob slid his hand down her back, gently rubbing her bum. He scooted down to allow his lips access to her ear and neck.

Carol responded warmly, throwing her head back as he worked his way down her throat.

All of a sudden Bob froze.

Carol lifted her head to look at him, puzzled. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I... dunno." Bob pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his head in confusion. "Everything was great, really, and all of a sudden it was like, I don't know, I completely had no idea what I was supposed to do."

Carol propped herself up on one arm and looked at him with concern. "What do you mean, you forgot? C'mon, we've been doing this for 17 years. How could you just forget?" she teased. A horrified look crossed her face. "Oh god -- is it me? Did I do something wrong? Should I go brush my teeth? I'm so sorry, sweetie!"

Bob reached over and absently patted her hand, "Nah, you're fine, really. It's... I don't know if I can even explain it. I just... forgot."

Suddenly, Carol sat up and brought her hands to her mouth in astonishment. "Oh, shit. I think I know what it is," she whispered. "Shit! I can't believe it!" She threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, wincing as her feet hit the cold floor. She stomped across the room and started pacing, glaring at the ceiling. "I can't friggin' believe it! It's November first, right? Fuck. Fuck!"

Although Bob always did appreciate her ability to swear, it was his turn to be concerned. She was really and truly pissed. "Yeah, it's the first... what's wrong, honey? C'mon, you're really scaring me here."

"It's the Writer!" Carol said through clenched teeth, shaking her fist at the ceiling. "NaNoWriMo starts today and we have a goddamned noob Writer who doesn't know shit about writing erotica. GodDAMmit!"

Bob's mouth fell open, the light of comprehension dawning as he looked upward. "Oh man. Oh man!" He got out of bed and walked over to Carol, taking her in his arms. "You've got to be kidding me. What the fuck? I'm sure she's made love before, what in the hell is her problem?

Carol dropped her head to his chest. "I don't know. I just don't know."

She turned away and started pacing again, her clenched fists pounding her thighs with every step. "But whatever the hell her problem is, it really sucks! Here we have this great chance to spend all day in bed fucking each others' brains out," She threw back her head and glared at the ceiling, her voice choked with frustration, "Do you have any idea how hard those are to come by, with three kids?!?" she yelled, warming to her topic, "and this goofball nutcase who, out of the blue, thinks she's going to crank out the next Great American Novel in a month comes along and messes it up."

She slowed to a stop, her wrath fading to disappointment, her eyes welling with tears. She covered her face with her hands and just stood there, quietly sobbing and cursing.

Bob dropped his head, his shoulders slumped, echoing her disappointment. He noted with almost clinical detachment that his prized morning wood was completely gone.

"Crap. I really fucking hate November, you know?" He sighed, walked over to the bed, and sat down heavily. He said mockingly to the ceiling, "All those NaNoWriMo wanna-bees with their fucked-up dreams of glory, thinking that they can learn in a month what Real Writers spend years agonizing over. It just makes me sick." He grabbed a pillow and hurled it at the ceiling. It hit the light fixture and fell impotently to the floor, narrowly missing Carol. She was still sobbing and cursing and didn't even flinch.

Damn, he thought. If the Writer is a complete loser, I might not get laid again until December! He punched the bed in anger but it didn't help.

He took a deep breath, exhaled, scrubbed his hand over his face, and looked up at Carol. "Oh well, there's nothing for it, I guess. Whaddya say we get cleaned up, go for some waffles at the Pancake House, and head over to Lowe's? We could check out paint colors for the girls' room."

Carol choked back the last of her sobs, wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve and let her hands fall to her side. She regarded Bob with an air of resignation, her face blotchy and damp. "Sure. You want the first shower? I'll go start the coffee."

"Yeah, OK." Bob headed off toward the bathroom, shaking his head.

Carol followed him. On her way through the door, she shot an angry glance at the ceiling over her shoulder.

"Fuckin' noob!" she growled, as she slammed the door.

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Apologies to Lynn Viehl over at Paperback Writer.

And apologies to Bob and Carol. I'm really sorry. Really. I feel your pain.