The happiest day of my honeymoon

The happiest day of my honeymoon was when I ate chips in bed after a nap while he played angry birds on his Iphone beside me.

We saw some amazing things, don’t get me wrong.

A humpbacked whale breeched at sunset just for us.

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We hiked 5 hours to the peak of a mountain and held each other while the sun and rain battled it out and made a rainbow.

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We snorkeled.

We went to a fair.

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We drank shade grown Kauaiian coffee in the bay where the song  “Puff the Magic Dragon” was composed.

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When went to a crystal bowl healing ceremony where an auric grid was built to anchor people with autism to the 3rd dimension while at the same time connecting us to the 5th dimension and activating the kundalini points in our lower chakras.

We had a hypnosis regression therapy session to connect us to our unborn child and heal past life wounds.

I even gave him a blowjob.

We did a lot.

And that’s my point.

One afternoon, nearing the end of the trip we came home early. I don’t even remember lying down and falling asleep. I awoke to him playing angry birds on his cell phone. This is a man who hates technology. If he could he would check emails once a week. He does not own a computer and he is not on facebook.

“What the hell is going on?” I asked.

“I never get a chance to do stupid stuff like this” he says.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself some fizzy water and opened a bag of chips. We had talked about these chips all week because I wanted them so bad and he was watching my sodium intake.

“I have not had chips for an entire week!” I would whine in the grocery store.

“I have not fucked a teenager for an entire week either, what do you want a medal?” he would respond.

So I opened the bag of precious chips and took a bowl of them into the bedroom and lay down beside him. I balanced the bowl on my belly and ate those fucking chips while he played his dumb game.

We lay together like that for hours. We didn’t drive to the point to watch the sunset like we had every other evening.

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We didn’t go out for dinner “because it’s our honeymoon.”

We savoured the idleness of nothing.

And ironically this pedestrian act made me feel more connected to my man than our epic adventure to the waterfalls

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or exploring the lava fields at sunrise.

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I watched him play his game and I shouted “Get those little pigs” at the screen.

He found the crumbs that had fallen into the crack of my cavernous boobs.

I was proud of him for getting such a high score. He liked how dumb I was after the nap.

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May it always be so.