11:11 and this man SLEEP. Yall see the picture. Hair tied, no lashes, eyes shut, laying under a hotel ceiling in Gatlinburg making a wish like somebody at a sleepover and Jimmy next to me snoring on our anniversary. Been sleeping first since the day we met. Gone be sleeping first at the funeral too, his or mine, ion care which.
What got wished for aint none of yall business. Aht aht. But the day before the wish? Yall can have all of that.
Margarita first. Big as a flower pot, salt all round the rim, lime hanging off the side like it was scared. Jimmy told the man make it strong and that man HEARD him. Drank it like a lady for about four minutes lul. After that the lady left and whoever showed up in her place had a real good time.
Now the outfits. He said no matching this year. Okay. So mustard top and mustard shorts went in the bag and nobody said nothing. Guess who walked out the bathroom in mustard. GUESS. Whole pool thought we planned it and he let them think it, standing there with his lil face like it was his idea. Look at him in that picture. He know what he did.
He wanted to walk the strip. We did not walk the strip. Brown dress, white porch, mountain air doing something to my edges and a grown man somewhere behind the camera talking bout we drove all this way to sit down. Yeah. We drove all this way to sit down. Thats what the money was for.
Sugarlands was supposed to be one sample. One. Yall know how one go. Stood in there next to him cheesing like we aint got kids at home and a dog that eat the mail and whatever came after that first cup, there is no receipt for it. On purpose. Ion keep receipts on myself.
Then the hotel. Then the ceiling. Then 11:11.
Happy anniversary Jimmy. The wish was about you. Thats all you getting bihhh. Toodles.
About The Author
