Our talk had worked wonders for my new-found insecurity issues. But that was short-lived. On Monday when he picked me up from work, Obama informed me that he would drop me off and see me later because he was going to go sit with his daughter until she went to sleep because she wasn't feeling well.
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Yea...about as long as it took you to scroll down is about as long as it took me to manage to say chhoke out a soft "Ok, babe" in response. Hours later my son was in bed and Obama was still gone. Even though it couldn't have been more than 3 hrs or so that had passed, I had already admitted defeat. As far as I was concerned, they had talked and patched up their relationship in hour two (because hour one was all about the baby) and now, hour three, they were sweating up the sheets. I had a drink and let the alcohol put me to sleep. When I woke up a short time later, I was facing my couch cushions. I could hear the television on, but no movement, no Obama. I was about to go into a crying fit and destroy all my own shit (ladies why DO we do that in movies? lol) when I heard, "Hey sleepyhead. You looked so tired I didn't want to wake you up.."
I turned around and there he was, in his drawers, playing X-box, bear in hand, chilling, at "home" (where his heart is).
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