River and I go out to lunch today. “Didn’t you promise me a back rub a while back?” Well yeah, she can get a back rub just about any time she wants. I love touching her. We think about why she didn’t get one. Maybe she was too tired. No, that doesn’t make sense. “I was too cold.” That’s it. I put my hand on her back in the restaurant. She purrs. She wants more of that when we get home.
“Should we turn on the stove in the bedroom?” “I’d rather have it as a reward for doing my homework.” “That’s fine.”
Four hours later she hasn’t claimed it. I’m not feeling good about that. “Well I had all this stuff I had to do.” “Had to do.” She could have told me earlier, instead of letting me assume and sit here for hours. Or I could have asked, but it just seemed implied by the way she said it that it wouldn’t be too long. Still, assumptions often get me in trouble and I’m trying to learn to avoid them. “There was a bunch of other stuff I forgot about.” “So I’m just one more thing in the big pile of stuff you forgot about.” That doesn’t make me feel good. “Well don’t you forget about stuff?” “Of course I do. And I probably upset people. And I probably apologize.” “Apologies are good.” Then why doesn’t she do it.
“We’ve got 15 minutes until I have to pick up Brook.” “You should do your reading or one of those other things you have to do, and we can save it for tonight.” My problem is that she said it was something she wanted, but it seems like she’s trying to squeeze it in like something I want (which I do), and I’m supposed to be grateful.
“I want it because my back is all achy.” There we go. That melts me. I don’t feel cast aside and taken for granted anymore. I feel wanted and needed. River gets 15 minutes of back rub. And hopefully more tonight.