There is a saying that when you are retired, every day is Saturday. I know this because it is stenciled on the Yeti my friends gave me when I retired. I have modified the statement to say, “Every day’s the same except Sunday. Sunday I go to church.”
Now I have always gone to church on Sundays, so the seventh day being special was nothing new. However, there was a time another day stood out as a special day as well. That day was Tuesday, and Tuesday had become a day like no other.
Unlike Sunday, which was a day of worship and rest, Tuesday was a day of eating out, shopping and enjoying life’s pleasures. Tuesday was my Saturday, only better. The kids were in school, Dierberg’s was not as crowded, and Tuesday was Burger Day at Tippin’s.
Like every other day of the week, Tuesday had its routines. Now I am usually an anti-routine guy, because routines can become boring and familiar, and familiarity can lead to contempt. However, Tuesday’s routines were coveted and anticipated, like a Christmas morning for a five year old. A child would awaken and rush out to see what treasures lie beneath the tree. I, on the other hand, would spend Tuesday mornings with some quality time in the garden. But more on that later.
Jeănne was an early riser by nature, so she would be up long before me, tending to the kids’ breakfast and school lunches. She would usually enjoy a light breakfast with the children, and then once they were off to school, she would settle in with a second cup of coffee and enjoy some quiet time. Finishing that last drop of Folger’s was her cue to clean up the breakfast dishes and prepare for the day. She had a routine and a plan, and it was a good one.
I saw a movie once—it was a Western, but the name of the movie and even who was in it escapes me. There was a line in the movie which said, “Son, Indians don’t take a crap without a plan.” The line was perfect for the scene and helped drive a point home. Jeănne, having some Cherokee blood in her gene pool, was a natural-born planner. She would plan to make a plan, whereas I was more of a make-it-up-as-I-go kind of guy. As a result, we had occasional skirmishes, which I usually lost. Did I mention that Jeănne’s maiden name in French means “Of War”? Enough said.
The kitchen was clean, so Jeănne returned to the bedroom to take her shower and prepare for the day’s activities. I continued to lounge in bed while she did her “whole thing.” That simply meant that she was showering and not bathing, which meant she was washing her hair. The washing, drying, and fixing of the hair added an extra hour to her morning routine, but that was all part of the plan. It provided me an extra hour to lay in bed and think about the delicacies that awaited me in the garden.
I would occasionally fall back to sleep, but I never needed an alarm to wake me. The sound of the blow dryer was my wake up call, and when I heard it start to whir, I knew it was time to get up. Jeănne still needed another half hour to dry and fix her hair, so I had plenty of time to make the bed, take my shower, and prepare the dining room table for the “muffet”. As I mentioned earlier, Tuesday was Burger Day at Tippin’s, so I did not eat a big breakfast, but I did enjoy fresh muffin.
Burger Day was great. For $5.55 you got any burger on the menu with a side and a soft drink. But wait! There’s more! You also got a piece of Tippin’s famous pie. The burger and fries were always hot, the soft drink cold, and the pie was so delicious. However, as good as the pie was, it paled in comparison to the muffin I had enjoyed earlier. Burger Day was a great value, but the muffin was free. Although, a good friend of mine always says that you pay for a good muffin your entire life. If that is true, it is money well spent, because Jeănne provides me with the best muffin in the world.
The hair dryer had stopped its whirring and the house was now quiet. The silence was broken by a sweet voice from the bedroom inquiring about the Muffin Man.
“He is here,” I replied.
Jeănne entered the dining room wearing a silky bath robe from Victoria’s Secret. Without a word, she approached me where I sat at the head of the table, climbed onto my lap, and kissed me with her warm, moist lips. We kissed passionately, our tongues flickering in each others mouths like a hot flame on a candle. I teased her ear with my kisses and nibbled on her neck, only to be reminded that it wasn’t turtleneck season.
My hands slid under her robe, and I began to caress her perky breast. Her nipples were now as hard as a rock. Jeănne always claimed that I made them hard, but I’m pretty sure they were already hard the first time I saw them. Perhaps just being in the same room as me made them hard, but that is awful arrogant of me to think that way.
Either way, they were hard and getting harder as Jeănne got hot and hotter. I opened the top of her robe and buried my face between her breasts and spent equal time kissing, sucking and licking each of them as she got hotter and started to sigh.
I was lost in my own world as I enjoyed the delightful fruit before me, and then my concentration was broken by her voice:
“I’ve got something else that needs a good licking.”
This was my cue. I lifted her off my lap and sat her on the end of the table and opened her robe. We kissed some more, and I revisited the twins for a moment, but then I gently laid her back onto the table, resting her head on the pillow I had provided. Her robe was now fully open, and I took my time admiring my beautiful wife.
Her beautiful blonde hair covered the pillow and framed her gorgeous face so perfectly. Her perky breasts, like twin peaks rising from the plain, rose gently with each breath. My gaze continued southward until I had reached the border and found myself at the gate of the most beautiful, well-manicured garden I had ever seen. Surely this must be Eden.
I spent as much time as needed exploring the garden area around the gate, using all of my senses to absorb its beauty, fragrant smell, and tasty delights. After a few minutes had passed, there were the beginnings of a seismic event. It started as mild tremors and slowly increased until there was a great shaking and upheaval. The garden mound rose and quaked as I experienced great pressure on both sides of my head. This continued, for what seemed to be an eternity and then it subsided. As the thigh master released its grip on my head, a few minor tremors remained.
My gaze turned back to the north, across the plain to the twin peaks which were still rising and falling with each breath. However, their movement was not as gentle as before. It’s as if they were calling for more. Understanding this call, I grasped each peak as I entered the garden cave. I lingered for a moment right inside the entrance, and then I pushed forward. I moved further inside and then, not wanting to miss all the cave had to offer, I retraced my steps, and then pushed forward again.
The cave was snug, but it was perfect for me, as I enjoyed the feeling of its walls pressing in on me. Determined to finish, I thrust onward until I could go no further. Then as before, there was a trembling followed by an eruption of sorts. The eruption did not last long, but there were a number of aftershocks that slowly abated. The epicenter was hard to determine because I was one with the cave and garden.
I slowly withdrew from the garden and wiped the muffin residue from my face. I sat Jeănne up, kissed her on the forehead, and helped her from the table.
Brunch was over, and it was time to get on with the day. Tippin’s and Dierberg’s were waiting, and even though I had just finished an incredible muffin, I was hungry. We already knew what we would order at Tippin’s, and we had circled all the sale items of interest on Dierberg’s new ad. The coupons had been cut and filed, and it was time to go. After all, it was Tuesday.
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