Sugar Mama Part Trois

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The health care reform act has left me inspired. Watching President Obama work tirelessly to bring insurance to those in need because he felt it was the right thing to do. He accomplished what many presidents before him had failed miserably at. I wrote two blogs, one serious and one funny, which have garnered me my two best page hit days in the history of my blog. My blog itself is about to have more hits in four months than I had all of last year.

I could feel it down in my veins. It was time to take another crack at my never ending quest to convince my wife to be my Sugar Mama. Like Don Quixote before me I would not fail at my mission. I know deep down in my bones I am destined to stay home and write. I am not built right for day jobs. It takes thousands of gallons of coffee a week to get me through the blinding harshness of the sun. There are days where the sun beats me down so bad I feel like a crash test dummy.

To stay home and write would be a dream. Stay up late into the night writing. Sleep in until noon. Wake up and read the paper with a steaming hot cup of coffee at my side. Maybe a few hours of Plants vs. Zombies and then off to writing. I know it sounds like a lazy man’s fantasy but I swear I would be a writing machine.

Now I would just have to convince Sheri. How could she refuse me? My blog readership is increasing (hell, I am actually getting called names on my blog. I am sure the person who called me ignorant did not intend to make me giddy with happiness but I am weird like that). I have written two novels and I have started my third. No longer could she point to my lack of output as an excuse for not letting me stay home. Now the final piece of the puzzle was in place. National health care reform. I would be able to get insurance as a stay at home writer.

Saying the words “yes I can!” over and over in my head. I braced myself for the coming debate. I would bury her with my best soliloquies. My words would be like a hurricane battering against her best defenses. I threw out the gauntlet of having health insurance like a prize fighter throwing a right hook. I could see the confusion on her face. “I should let you stay home because of health care reform? We already have good insurance. How does this change anything?”

I had thrown my best punch and she had slapped it down like it wasn’t even there. I smiled my best Don Juan smile, “I love you honey.” She merely shook her head in disdain as she walked away. Her parting comments rattling around in my brain, “How about doing the laundry once every decade and then we’ll talk.” Wonder Woman couldn’t lasso the truth like my wife can.

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About csdaley

C.S. Daley was born in California but has spent most of his life in his imagination. His first short story written in third grade, the now classic "Close Encounters of the Turd Kind," was sold to his next door neighbor for a quarter. The neighbor promptly demanded a refund. An unhealthy obsession with the writings of Neil Gaiman, Christopher Moore, and Terry Pratchett have left his mind warped and broken. He spends most of his evening swilling down coffee while tapping at a keyboard under the watchful eyes of his kittens. They are there to make sure he doesn't snap. He likes to write fantasy for adults and teens.

2 Responses to “Sugar Mama Part Trois”

  1. >How many attempts are there going to be? Let's be honest there haven't been only 3.

  2. >Go Sheri–make him earn it!

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