azurelunatic | Gooshy-babble

So he knocked on the door while I was happily burning French toast. I looked out the peephole and saw a suspiciously familiar tan trenchcoat that matched the knock. I hugged him before he got in the door. Ah, fun and happy life-things. He doesn't particularly care for chocolate-covered cherries. There were battles with swords. I sat down on the floor next to his chair when he finally sat down, and we wound up sparring with each other and Nephew. Nephew kept saying, "You're busted!", referencing Need for Speed 2, which he was playing last night, and Darkside kept saying, "No, Joan's busted!" or "No, your mom's busted!"... baaaad jokes. Baaad.

When we tangle with each other, it's like snuggling, because we tend to stay tangled once we've gotten that way. He's gotten comfortable enough with me to pet me, almost, if I'm sitting close and tangled up with him. Tickled him. He asked me not to; I agreed. He hit me with my hand. I hit myself with his hand. We played Mercy with my good hand and his bad hand. I didn't elbow him in the groin.

To touch, and be touched, is important to me.