I was lucky enough to spend most of the day with my two absolutely favorite muses: Roberta and Scott.
Scott is freshly back from the Amazon where he did not feed any high school students to any pirahnas. No, he did not. He did, however, learn to cook for twenty-five people.
That damned annoying thing inside my wee little brain that does not allow me wantonly litter or kick the occasional puppy also does not permit me to tell this beloved Muse that this could be one of the more useful things to know in life. Fortunately, Scott is not stupid and rarely requires my brain to function.
I like that Scott always attempts to be entertaining and still maintains a flexibility as far as other peoples desires. I like that he is not too tall, not cruel in the slightest, and that he thinks the Brazilian goal keeper is almost as good looking as the Italian. He has excellent taste in sparkly, lovely Sarahs. I like his wavy, magic hair, especially when it's very clean. I like that he likes showers frequently, joyfully.
In the past few years, he enunciates more often and reads aloud astoundingly well, particularly this afternoon. Scott skips with a shocking alacrity and quite impetuously.
I utterly love Roberta. I love that the ability to throw back her head and laugh has not been crushed out of her, despite all and everything. I could just go on and on about her. She is the only name I shall ever have tattooed into me.
And so to bed. Goodnight, Sweet Ones.