Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Mistah Lovah Lovah...

This morning my elderly Italian neighbor, who is 80 if a day, brought me a present.   I stared blankly back and forth from her smiling face to my new gift, wondering just what the heck she thought I needed a hot water bottle for.

According to her, this here hot water bottle is for keeping me warm at night since my husband has joined the Travelling Salesman Club (news travels at the speed of light in small villages).  Bless her little heart.  Nevermind the fact that she cared enough to think about how I spend my nights, which is sorta creepy if you ask me, but in a sweet, old lady kinda way.  Ok, ok, I ain't gonna lie, it's straight up creepy.

This will be your new best friend, she said.  But I don't take my best friends to bed with me, I responded.  At this, her face turned red and her eyes sort of bugged out.  I quickly hugged and thanked her, and told her that I would make her up a batch of cupcakes today.  At this she said  That's ok!  I don't like american food, anyway!, and tottered back to her front door. (WTH?)

So, here I sit with my new best friend.  Seems like I should be calling it something, you know, giving it a name.   I'd rather take a lover to bed than a best friend, but since I don't have a lover, should I give the water bottle a lover's name?  Something macho-Italian like Fabio or Michele?  Or something Southern, like Jackson or Beauregard?  Saying I'm taking Fabio to bed with me tonight instead of this here water bottle sounds more Sex and the City (and less Nursing Home-ish) to me.  I've never slept with a hot water bottle before.  What if it leaks out all over the place?  Which makes me then dream that I've peed in my bed?
Just the fact that I'm considering it tells me that I am either A. bored, or B. very cold indeed at night.  There's nothing else like the body heat coming off your partner to keep you warm all night, extra blankets be damned.  I miss my husband.

husband.  Hawt.

Fabio (clichè)

I wonder if she's spread the word yet that I'm sleeping with her water bottle.


Ellen said...

I sleep with my Love and a cornbag. Yes, a cornbag that I heat in the microwave that stays warm most of the night. I put it where my feet can touch it and the bed warms up so nicely....ahhhh. Our electric blanket gave out, which we used to pre-warm the bed, then we have a nice fluffy down comforter. It is not that my Love isn't warm...but it it cold at night! He likes to use my cornbag too...we share.

I have never slept with a hot-water bottle and I think if it leaked I would be quite uncomfortable/mortified. Maybe wrap it in a towel. Your neighbor was sweet really...she must know what it feels like to be without the natural warmth of a husband.

Debbie M. said...

Too funny! Can I have the cupcakes since she turned em down?

Tammy said...

Ellen, she is widowed, bless her heart.

Debbie, sadly, I didn't bother with making them after that. I'm going to buy her a little bag of Italian cookies from the bakery, I don't think she will say "thanks but I hate italian food" to that.

Sara Louise said...

What a sweet, nosey old lady! And I think it's so funny that she didn't want your 'American food'.
(my next door neighbor is an old lady too. I make her soup).