2 (out of the many) reasons why I love My Boyfriend

1) He cooks me breakfast in the morning and 2) he does it naked.

:)

The HB didn't have to work last night and had a class early this morning so we were actually able to go to sleep together and wake up together (I hate it when I have to get up and he gets to sleep in.) While I couldn't play Supreme Ruler Over All Of Mattress Land and sprawl across the whole bed, as I've grown accustomed to doing while he works nights, it was nice to get some quality snuggle time in. Waking up together was especially nice because he occasionally likes to cook breakfast on weekdays and I usually don't bother. So today I had a home cooked breakfast. Yah!

When I got out of the shower I heard him messing around in the kitchen but I didn't get my hopes up that food was being cooked. He could have been scavenging for any number of miscellaneous items crammed in our kitchen junk drawers. But as I was throwing on clothes I began to smell food, so I went to investigate.

"Are you cooking breakfast?!" I whisper-yelled in giddy anticipation.

"You know that guy that calls himself the Naked Chef?" the HB answers in response. "He's a poser."

"A poser, huh?"

As I round the corner and step into the kitchen he exclaims, "I'm the real naked chef!"

And indeed he was. Cooking bacon no less! That boyfriend of mine, he's so brave!

:)

I took over bacon duties while he took a quick shower and let me tell you something: cooking bacon while naked, or even semi naked (I hadn't put my shirt on yet) is freaking dangerous! The bacon was ornery this morning and threw a hot greasy spit ball at me. Mother Effin Son of an Ouch! It's like some kind of sadistic Murphy's Law: When you have a shirt on, nothing happens (hot-ornery-grease-ball-wise). When you go without a shirt, you get zapped in a million places. I still have a red dot on my hand from the second spit ball. Stupid home cooked breakfast. Phooey!

But damn, did it taste gooooood.