My mom and her memory

I haven't been writing a whole lot here. I don't think it's because I have nothing to write about or that I'm lazy.

I haven't felt the need to write anything just yet.

It's likely because I'm still processing things. Trying to come to grips with my mom's memory loss is one of them.

She often opens and closes the front door. She'll bolt the door with the security chain lock without remembering that either my dad or I are about to return to the house. It's weird.

She will also open and close the washroom door on the main floor. It's a bit difficult to tell whether she needs to use the washroom and forgets to walk through the door, or if it's the same habit that she has with the front door.

Last Monday, she fell down in the washroom. My dad and I had to help get her off the floor. Thankfully, she doesn't fall down often. When she does, it's a bit scary. Luckily, she was fine.

My mom fell and is on the mend

On Friday morning, at around 6:30 am, my dad called me to say that my mom had fallen down at home. He needed my help to lift her off the floor.

I sleep with earbuds on. Luckily, I also sleep with my hybrid smartwatch on. When he called me, my wrist buzzed and that's how I knew.

I also don't live too far away. I basically went to the washroom, put on presentable clothing, and drove over to their house.

My dad and I managed to lift my mom off the floor and onto her commode. We then rolled her over to the washroom.

She got up to go to the washroom. We have been trying to figure out what happened. She likely lost her footing, slipped, and fell.

She ended up with a bump on her head and a sore back. I asked her whether she had hit her head on the floor or wall. She has no recollection. Maybe she banged it on her walker as she went down. 

On Saturday, she was doing much better. It was quite the scare, but I'm glad that she's on the mend.

Unlocked washroom stall with a colleague in it at work

On Thursday, just before lunch, I visited the women's washroom at work. There are four stalls. Two were available.

I went to the one at the very end. I thought that I would get a few extra steps and also have a bit of privacy.

Normally, when a stall is free, the door is ajar. This one was. I opened it and there was my colleague.

I apologized, although it wasn't my fault. She said that the door doesn't lock. It actually does. You need to pull the door hard and then lock it.

Needless to say, it was embarrassing. I shouldn't be. It wasn't my fault. If I didn't know the person on the toilet seat, I would probably feel less embarrassed. It's the fact that I know this colleague and she is on my team that doesn't help.

I told my little team about this incident over lunch. My mini me saw the whole thing unfold. My intern said that now would be a good time to have a memory zapper, like in Men in Black. I agree!

I shared this story with my guy on Thursday at dinner, when he was high on cough syrup.

"Did you have any lesbian tendencies?" he asked me.
"Nope," I replied. "Would that turn you on?"
"Nope, I'm just curious. How much did you see? Her bush?" he asked.
"I saw her bare thighs. She had a long shirt on, so I didn't see much, thankfully. I did see more than I had wanted to of my colleague," I answered.

Roughly an hour after the incident had happened, said colleague and I sat beside each other in our team meeting for 1.5 hours. As expected, we were both fine. We are both adults and no harm was done.

The moral of this story is to always make sure that the door is shut and locked in a public washroom.

Meaningful hugs with my directionally challenged guy

My guy's plane was scheduled to arrive at 07:30 on Thursday. The plane had touched down ten minutes early. However, he had to wait longer for his luggage.

I could have slept in more, but got up just before 07:00. My outfit consisted of a short pair of blue shorts with a floral pattern and a purple v-neck sweater. A matching pair of lacy black bra and panties were underneath.

My guy eventually arrived at my hotel room at 08:35. I opened the door and we embraced lovingly. It was the I-have-missed-you-so-much type of hug. The door wasn't even closed yet!

We finally moved a couple of steps into the room and closed the door. We hugged some more, with a few tender kisses squeezed in. I got to caress his uniform head, which I find sexy.

"Can I freshen up?" he asked.
"Sure," I said, taking his coat.

My guy opened my closet. I pointed to the washroom.

"Directionally challenged still... some things never change," I remarked.
"Yep, I'm still me," he said, smiling, and headed in the right direction.

It was great to have him back.

Date night - at a concert

Last night, my guy and I went to see Depeche Mode in concert. The last time the band was here, I couldn't go. I vowed to not miss the next show.

I thought that our seats weren't that great, but they turned out nicely. We had a side view of the stage.

The concert was amazing! I chatted with the usher. I thanked him at the end and wished him a good evening. He reciprocated.

I also chatted with an older man next to me with his wife. It was my guy's first Depeche Mode show. It was this guy's second. So, I ended up talking about the band's music with both men.

I realize why I do not drink beer at shows. It isn't because I am cheap, although my guy would approve of saving a ridiculous amount of money for a beer at such a venue. It's because you constantly have to leave to hit the washroom and come back. It was a pain after hitting double digits letting folks pass by. I simply wanted to enjoy the show.

I had a wonderful time. My guy did, too.

E is for ejaculation

On my guy's birthday, we had a flight out at 08:05. It was also Easter Sunday.

I am typically a morning person who is also a night owl. It's a deadly combination. I actually went to bed at 23:00 the previous evening, which was super early for me. I got up at 03:00. I couldn't go back to sleep.

My guy called me at around 05:45. I was busy scraping frost off my car's windshield. I called him back. Surprisingly, he was nearly at the office. My hotel room was a five-minute drive over.

I swung by the main doors of my office building and dropped my luggage off. I then went to park my car in the underground parking.

By the time I had locked my car and was climbing up the stairs towards the office building, my guy was there, looking at my luggage. He then turned around, saw me, and came over to hug and kiss me.

He got his luggage out of his car. We then sat in his car and cuddled. He liked my haircut and his hand dipped under my shirt. He was caressing my shoulder while kissing me.

"As soon as I saw you, I got hard," he said, in his sweet, boyish way.
"I've missed you, too."

We held hands pretty much the entire way, from the taxi ride, through security, at the gate, and on the plane. We broke up some of the hand-holding by kissing now and again.

My guy's member was exceptionally hard on the plane, to the point where he told me that it hurt. He excused himself to visit the washroom. He came back and seemed relieved.

"Did you wash your hands," I asked, joking with him.
"Yes, I did," he replied, grinning.
"Too bad those washrooms aren't big enough for two people. I would have liked to have given you some hands-on relief," I replied, smiling.

Of course, there was more fun to come later on that evening. We were just getting started.

Turning a bad, wet experience into a feel-good one

Normally, I log on to Skype and stay logged in all day. I don't know if my guy has a chance to chat with me when he has a free moment at work.

Today, I logged in at noon, just after I had returned from running a couple of errands. He was online. That was different. He immediately said hi. We exchanged a few instant messages before he called me.

We said hi. I could sense that something was on his mind. I asked if he was okay.

"I took my car in to get the transmission fluid changed," he said. "I then went into the washroom and had an accident."

I thought that the way he had worded it was funny. It made me laugh. My laughter was uncontrollable.

"No, not that type of accident," he said, which prompted me to laugh some more. "It had to do with the sink."

Okay, the sink detail made me laugh harder.

"That's not funny," he said in a deadpan tone.
"I'm sorry," I said, trying to calm myself down. It took quite some time.

He told me what had happened. After he had washed his hands, he put his foot on the sink so he could tie his shoelace. Well, the sink wasn't all that sturdy and it fell off the wall. He then tried to put the sink back up, but it fell down again, and all the pipes burst, meaning that water was everywhere. He finally found the main valve and shut everything off.

He quietly went to pay for the transmission fluid service and reported the problem to the staff member. The employee said not to worry about it, although my guy said to charge the repair to him. Instead, my guy decided to give $50 towards the repair and then left.

In the end, my guy did find the whole situation funny, saying that it was like it was a scene from a movie. I apologized for laughing and was forgiven.

The other day, he was beating himself up, saying that he wasn't a good person. I had to convince him that he was a decent guy. Sometimes, poor choices will make you think that you're a rotten individual, but your personality tends to stay intact from decade to decade.

"If you were that person you say you have become, who doesn't give a damn about anything, I don't buy that," I insisted. "You cared about breaking the sink. You didn't have to pay for it, but you still chipped in. You aren't the monster you think you are."
"So, I've always been bad," he said to me, trying to tease me.
"No," I said. "You've always been good. It's your perception of who you are that needs to change."
"You're being your usual sweet self," he concluded. "Thank you."
"I need to say it more."
"So, how are you going to reward me for being good?" he said quietly.
"What did you have in mind?" I said seductively.
"I can touch you all over," he said.
"Yes."

There was a slight pause. I then had a thought that I wanted to share with him.

"You know, if I had broken the sink, I wouldn't have been forgiven that quickly," I said.
"No, you wouldn't have," he admitted. "You would have been punished."
"Imagine me with a short, black skirt on, with one high heel on the sink," I said.
"I like that," he said. "You with heels on and your white thighs contrasting your black skirt. I can see your panties."

Just like that, we got into a story that made us both aroused and excited.

We set the story up where he was the employee at the shop, who walked into the washroom and noticed that I had broken the sink. I apologized profusely, but he wouldn't accept it. The washroom had a wooden brush used to scrub one's back. He ordered me to face the wall. I did what I was told.

Instead of lifting up my skirt, he pulled it down, along with my panties. He smacked my left cheek with the back of the wooden brush, which was painful. He then did the same with my right cheek. He alternated, whacking me harder and harder. I was started to tear up.

He then asked if I would suck his cock. I said that I wouldn't. More smacks went across my buttocks. I was in pain. I was in tears. My backside was bright red. He asked me again if I would suck him. I finally gave in and I did.

Maybe it was not a good day for him at the auto shop. I'm glad that we turned that problem into something that felt good for both of us.