Daddy-Bear, could you do me a big favour today?
The Good Lady said as she twisted her neck around and around as if trying to find the Big Dipper in the night sky.
I looked up from both my toast, coffee and phone.
Sure baby-cheeks. Hit me, what can the big Boomdawg do for his special girl?
Despite the toast crumbs flying sideways out of my mouth, I followed up with a labia-moistening side-smile.
The Good Lady continued to move her head around in circles and now added her shoulder into the mix as if she was swimming at the one-arm Olympics.
I was starting to feel a bit dizzy with it all and wished she would stop it.
I think I must have slept in a funny way and my neck is killing me. In fact not just my neck, my arm and shoulder too. It is really fucking sore.
The Good Lady emphasised her apparent pain by nodding at someone off-camera that I couldn't see.
I snorted. They say that women have a high pain tolerance. So they can cope with Child Birth and all those vaginal shenanigans. Not that that should be any benchmark for pain. I had the venison-shits once that blew that kind of pain out of the water.
I shuddered as I remembered the horror of that dark and fibrous plug finally popping as if I had cracked open a bottle of brown champagne..
That and other of my experiences had led me to the exact opposite opinion, that of women suffering from a physical version of Man-Flu when it comes to pain.
Aw poor you. It will probably get better as the day goes on.
I smiled and reached out to pat her bum reassuringly.
There. That should help.
So, could you take the Little Lady to School today? I don't think I will be able? Aahhhh
She grimaced as some of her Man-Flu pain washed over her features. It looked quite realistic and for a moment I almost believed she was in terrible pain.
Ah. I have work. I can't really. I have a 9 o'clock each day that I can't easily miss.
I shrugged my shoulders in the way of men who go out and hunt elk so that they can bring home the bacon for their families.
I wouldn't normally ask, Daddy-Bear but I can hardly move my head?!
The Good Lady made a cat eating placenta face.
Please...?
She locked her eyes to mine and willed me to do as she asked.
I wanted to help her. I really did. There was another reason I couldn't though. Another reason I dreaded being asked to drop the kids off at school. I had hidden it from her to spare her feelings but perhaps it was time for her to know the truth.
I can't Mummy-Bear.
I tried to look away from her pleading eyes.
Why can't you? Gawds sake, I am in pain here. Give me one good reason. One good reason you can't go and do it for me? Just one.
She beetled her brows at me.
I sighed. Oh well. So be it.
I can't drop the kids off at school because all the other mummies dropping off their kids keep trying to shag me.
I lowered my head in resignation at the burden I had to bear.
I beg your pardon?!?!
The Good Lady sounded indignant. In fact even a little disbelieving.
It's true. It's awful. Always rubbing up against me. Or talking to me with their devilish come to bed eyes. Even in these Covid times. Like Alley cats they are.
My mouth twisted in horror at the idea of being held down by a horde of young mummies all clamouring for my mighty seed.
You have to be joking. You are joking? You are messing with me. I know you are.
The Good Lady shook her head in a direct contravention of the so-called pain-accord she was bound by.
It's not funny. Last time, One of them suggested a play date?!?!
I looked at the Good Lady beseechingly.
She picked up our daughters bag and handed it to me.
Nice try. punk.
My shoulders dropped and I took the bag.
Ok then. I would take the hit and walk the Little Lady to School, manfully braving the seething throngs of ravenous mummies lusting for my flesh.
I hoped I could make it back without having to shag too many of them.