Well it is lunch-time I am lying flat on my back on my comfie, oversized sofa, after pull my back out doing a 2km soft sand run down at Bondi Beach. The flatmate is in his room tidying up. He has a female friend visiting from interstate, who needs a place to crash for the night. I don’t think he really wants his friends to find out how he really lives. He is always on the ‘tidy up’ when one of his friends comes over, but then again aren’t we all! As he moves from room to room, putting things away, he asks
“Would you like me to get you any lunch?”
“Yes please! Leftovers would be great! I will go you halves in the left over tuna”
“Cool, would you like me to cook you up some fresh pasta?”
“No thanks just the leftovers will be fine”
As he prepares lunch, I hop up from the sofa, and head into the kitchen to get some more pain killers. As I leave the kitchen he hands me the bowl, he has just prepared, with added fresh tuna, rocket and freshly squeezed lemon juice. As I proceed to take the bowl, he pulls it back from me and said
“Go rest up sickie, and I will bring it to you” as he ushers me out of the kitchen. As I sit back down on the sofa, and carefully maneuver my legs to be stretched out on top of the sofa without hurting my back, my flatmate asks “Is there anything else I can get you..tea..water?” with a grin on his face.
“No thanks” I replied “this is perfect” As I admired that this wonderful guy I am living with, who looks after me every time I am sick, or injured. Maybe a no-frills guy who wears his shirts inside out, and buys them from Saint Vinnies. Really is the greatest, I don’t think I could really ask for anything more…..Well perhaps a little sex wont go astray.
republished with permission from “The Daily Nanny” visit her blog http://thedailynanny.wordpress.com/
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