Getting branded

I wouldn’t describe mine and Reinout’s relationship as a particular normal one. But what is normal? After a while, even the most quaint and outlandish becomes ordinary. I’ll give you an example. We have many endearing words for eachother. I call him Sweetie most of the time. He calls me everything from Petite Jolie and Beauty to Freak, Fuck Face and Dumb Ass. Unfortunately the latter three are the more common ones. On a good day he calls me Stinky and the funny thing is that I completely accept this. I’m so used to it that when I hear “Stinky” I turn around and reply. A conversation can easily go like this:
“Stinky, can you get me a coffee?”
“Sure Honey”

Certain nicknames tend to get stuck in a particular period. Such as Dumb Ass. This is his latest favourite and refers to my frequently stupid comments and remarks. Lately he’s also been calling me Monkey. Often when he does that he grabs hold of me, like I am some kind of toy monkey, which he can swing around.

Our peculiar relationship doesn’t stop at nicknames though. It also extends to a somewhat more physical past-time. That of mock fighting. In 9 out of 10 cases it’s my husband that starts. It always begins with a few swinging punches in the air. He looks like a fighter from the Street Fighter computer game, slowly but methodically throwing punches in circular movements. There are two courses to take, shrink which I often do, of fight back. Fighting back is more fun, but tends to end up in a lot bruises and tears.

Last night was no different. A mock fight that started with potato throwing, continued well after dinner. I defended myself pretty well, but a misdirected hit which landed on Reinout’s watch, ended it all…. in tears I might add. A red, angry bruise immediately formed, and is now turning into a shade of purple, still with marks of the watch. But it’s not the only one. Apart from a few scattered bruises in various shades and colours depending on their age, I have a penciled tattoo on my chest. To finish off the evening, perhaps in a bid to make amends for the earlier fight, Reinout grabbed a pen, holding me down to brand me. It didn’t matter how hard I was screaming. With a new found purpose, he wasn’t going to let this one go. The results speak for themselves. I think it’s kind of cute!

(2 votes, average: 5 out of 5)

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