Camping

Jethro and I spontaneously decided to take the girls camping in Galveston Friday night. It took us forever to leave because well, I'm disorganized. No, I swear. By the time we arrived, the campground had closed for the night, so we went looking for a cheap motel.

Now Galveston is a pretty typical beach town. There is one street with gorgeous hotels and beautiful beach houses right on the Seawall, but just one street back and you're in the ghetto. Shady motels, ramshackle cottages, and divy bars. Not pretty.

Since Jethro and I are poor folks, at least for awhile, we try to do things on the cheap. We eschewed the nicer motels close to the water for a seedy looking Motel 6. We hauled up the sleeping kids, the blankets, the pillows, a cooler full of tequila, and the weapon. We made note of the condoms in the vending machines and opened the door to our room where we were promptly assaulted by stale cigarette smell. Jethro left the room and I arranged a snoring Gwennie and Emma on their bed.

Jethro came back to the room, mixed himself a margarita, took off his shirt, stuck the gun between his pillow and the headboard and lay there with his arm behind his head. I found it totally sexy, and I realize most ladies probably think I'm making a beeline straight for the loonybin.

There was just something about the combination of being in a cheap motel with vending machine condoms and a gun that just does something for me. I proceeded to engage in what was probably the best sex I've had in a year.

Pathetic, right? If Trashman's reading this, he's probably guffawing in disgust. I can hear him: "Please Woman. I've taken girls I wanted to impress to a Motel 6. Seedy, my ass."