CEO Appreciation Day

Yesterday, Mistress had a bad day.

Lot’s of tasks, all crowding each other out.

She was feeling the lack of exercise, so took off on an early am bike ride, even as a light and chilly rain was falling, at around 8 am, as I headed to my office.

One daughter was still fighting a flu, now turned into a nasty cough. She needed to visit the MD again, and though she could have driven herself, well, Mistress felt obligated to go along and make sure she understood what the prescribed treatment might be.  Not necessary, but a Mom thing. And I’m sure the surly teen appreciated her concern and presence.

After the doctor’s visit, and picking up medication and more Gatorade, she rushed  to a lunch meeting with an important and high maintenance client (who happens to be a lesbian, with a bit of a crush on Mistress). 

As it turned out, by happenstance I had picked the same lunch spot to meet some clients of my own, so I got to see Mistress with her shorter, somewhat older, but sort of moon eyed friend as they chatted over lunch.

Cute. And of course, whenever Mistress gets to say hello to my clients (these were two females) they always give her the admiring eye, as in “hmmmm….. what does old Mick have going that this hot young thing is with her?

Then Mistress was heading back home, juggling another client’s crisis via phone, while escorting the sick surly teen to get a passport she will need before an overseas trip in the fall.

And that early 5 am sex, well it sure was hot, but I think it had us both a bit exhausted as the day progressed.

As she said to me later in the day. “sometimes it seems impossible to be parents and also do this two career thing!”. No doubt.  It’s something that has been a challenge for us, but particularly for her, for all these years. Mistress  refuses to do anything, particularly parenting, half way.

It may well be – with that teen’s foreign trip come the fall – that we will actually have the proverbial empty nest in a few months, a year before anticipated.

And of course, there are some huge upsides to that. Time together … free range of the house for all that kinky stuff.  We can even invite some of our blogger friends over for a visit …. Come on up, Aisha, and bring MoR with you if he comes for a visit!

And of course our Far flung management team will be  welcome too.

But it will also be odd. We sure will miss the upside of these surly critters and their (every now and then) charms.

It did get me thinking about Molly and Mick’s “secret origins” though. Something we’ve not spoken much about on these pages.

Although it’s quite possible we ran into one another earlier – having lived in the same town and gone to many of the same events – the age difference may have caused us to pass like two trains in the night.

(I often wonder whether Molly ever sold me skis or equipment at a ski store she worked at in her high school years, where I took my older daughters to get their first ski paraphernalia).

When Mistress first popped up on my radar it was about 23 years ago, in the fall of 1987, at a local political dinner. I was 37. She was only 24 or so. And of course she was a vision. Surprisingly stylish in a typically frumpy River City crowd, with a short designer-ish dress, that long beautiful hair, a sparkle in her eye. 

She jumped out of the room at me.

I think I remember her introducing herself to me as we talked in a group. She was on the staff of a state elected official who has gone on to do bigger things in DC by now.

And I recall complimenting her on her outfit….and offering to walk her to her car afterwards.

Yeah, forward, I know, for a married guy. Then again she was married too.

She passed on my offer, by the way. She told me later that I had a "reputation".  Probably true. and for good reason.

A week or so ago, someone blogged about the impact of touch as a relationship develops. And as the months passed, as we came to know one another better, and work together on  the ill fated Presidential campaign of a certain short Greek Governor, well, I found it was very hard not to touch Molly….

Nothing gross or sexual of course.

I was not the type of guy who would come out and say…. “hey…. I’m amazingly attracted to you…. Do you mind if I kiss you?”

That would be wrong.  Not the way a bashful Irish Catholic guy would operate, if your last name was not “Kennedy”, that is. I guess I had always been the type who was a little too chicken to make the first “move” with a woman.

But, I seemed to find  myself touching Molly’s arm, very lightly as we talked. And I remember a scene in our campaign office. She was working at a table, compiling a list maybe. Other folks were around, everyone talking about our primary plans. I was standing behind Molly.

And I realized I was rubbing her neck with my fingers…..

Argggh.  Of course, once my brain caught up with my fingers, I stepped back, hoping that no one else noticed.

Though I suspect Molly did.

For me, she was just-  literally -  irresistible.

There was another evening, the night before the primary. We were out late, driving around the city with some friends, stapling signs to phone polls near polling locations. I was driving, and when our assignment was done, around 1 am, I made sure that I dropped Molly off last, in front of her apartment, which was not far from the house I shared with my wife and daughters.

I stepped out of the car, walked her to her door.  At least for me, the sexual tension was palpable. Hormones and politics are a heady mix, even when the candidate is a short Greek guy….

It’s probably the closest I ever came to taking a liberty with Molly without advance consent….. I was desperate to kiss her…. But her signals were …. Ambivalent…

And since it was not clear that I had the green flag, well…..

“I guess we’ll see each other tomorrow, at the Victory Party?”

‘I’m sure we will, Mick”.

Well as Donna said on Thursday, my word count is covered. And I think I hear Mistress waking. Better make sure she gets lots of attention on CEO Appreciation Day. So I will leave you with this period photo rather than finishing this lurid tale.