Upon my manly chest.
I kissed her twice upon the lips,
I wish I’d done it thrice.
I whispered, Oh it’s so naughty,
She said, it’s oh so nice.
—Anonymous
By the time Eachann ran into her room, Georgina was hopping around the room on one foot, hollering and yelling because she had a lobster hanging from the other foot.
“Get it off me! Get it off!” She hopped all over the place. “Get it off!”
“Hold still! I can’t get it if I can’t catch you!”
“Don’t you yell at me! This is all your fault!” She plopped down on the bed and rocked back and forth. “Ouch-ouch-ouch-ouch! Get it off. Please.”
Eachann knelt in front of her and tried to pry the lobster’s claw loose. “Strong little bastard,” he muttered.
She screamed again.
“Oops. Sorry about that, George. It slipped.”
She kicked her foot a few times, but the lobster just hung on, flopping back and forth as she flung her foot all over the place.
Eachann grabbed her by the waist, picked her up kicking and hollering, and dropped her on the bed, then straddled her, sitting on her fanny and facing her kicking feet.
“Get off me!”
“Hold still, dammit!” He grabbed her foot and pried the lobster loose. “There! Got it.”
He raised to his knees and then slid off her. They faced each other on the bed and he held up the lobster. “See?”
She held her toes in one hand and rocked on the bed. “That was so mean.”
“How the hell else was I suppose to get it off?”
“Not you! Your children!”
“Oh. They are a handful.”
“How would you know? You’re never around!” She rocked, then grabbed her ankle and lifted her foot up so she could examine it. There were little zigzags deep in her toes from the serration in the lobster claws. She frowned at them, then mumbled, “They hate me.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Yes, they do. Your children hate me!”
“Now, George. Don’t cry.” He patted her gently on the back.
“I’m not crying.” She turned and wailed into his chest.
“Okay... okay. You’re not crying.” He slid his arms around her and held her. He just held her like that for a long time.
She lay her head against him. Her toe hurt like the very dickens, but her pride and her feelings hurt more.
After a minute or so more of his rubbing her back he took a knuckle and tilted her chin up so she had to look at him.
