I'm not a slut

"Ron" I told him today "When we're talking to people about how we met, could you focus a little less on the sex?  You're making me look like a slut." 

Ron has a tendency, to emphasize, to him, the "important part".  He focuses on the manic sex part.  Wow.  You took advantage of an underage, mentally ill child.  Way to go.  I wouldn't go bragging on that, myself. 

Let's think for a minute.  If sex was the only thing holding us together why did I stay with him after he was partially paralyzed?  How have we made it 22 years? 

It's not because I spent my childhood dreaming how I'd push my blind husband around in his wheelchair. 

Ron's talk has led to some unpleasant moments; one of the clients on board our first ride called me "An animal". 

"I've only had sex with one man." I replied.  "One man, Ron [last name], and I married him."  The unspoken "How many sex partners did you have and did you marry them?" question remained unspoken, yet clearly understood.  I don't like it when people treat me like a slut, so, when we got home I asked Ron to stop. 

I will correct him if need be.  I just realized today I'm very tired of this. 

Am I mad at him?  No.  He does have a head injury.  His "filter" for appropriate was smashed to bits.  However, reading one head injury rehab book, I found a story of a man who, after his accident, pleasured himself whenever the mood struck.  He did this in public, all over his small town.  Ron's never done that, thank God, but he shares things the way he experienced them. 

For Ron, our early relationship was all about sex.  My end was fueled by a desperate need to move out of "the house",  severe mental illness, and genuine attraction for Ron.  Ron told me once, he never really believed I loved him until after the accident.  He thought I was only with him for a place to live (I always contributed to the household).   I stuck around when he would have run - that made an impression. 

I didn't do it to impress him, but because he needed me and God made it clear I was to treat him as my husband, even if we weren't legally married.  Ron fixed that pretty quick and married me.  I had prayed about this about a year previous, and God told me Ron would "demand" to marry me.  He did, we married.  Now I can actually make his decisions. 

I did have a good night's sleep.  I woke up with a mild headache but not too bad, did my God Time, took my shower, and even watched part of a home remodel show.  I loathe stainless steel.  I would be furious if Ron took away my black and white appliances and replaced them with stainless.  It would make me feel like I'm at work (we have a stainless steel fridge at work). 

I like work but I don't want to bring it home.  We talk about work, at home, enough as it is.

I had a very wierd experience in the cab even before Ron started going on about the early days.  As I got in, the driver told the other client "I took him to the liquor store the other day.  He bought this big bottle of vodka and hung it in a bag around his neck.  Then he gave me this tract and told me about the mark of the beast."  [facepalm]   What an example. 

After Ron got in, he started talking about the sex stuff which bugged me to no end.   Especially because the other client was acting "holier than thou", judging me, and calling me outright names.  I will present my case to Ron using that exact example, why I'd like him to stop going on about the sex. 

We went to our secondary location to stock some merchandise.  I installed the new label (not as hard as it sounds), then ran to the dollar store for drain cleaner, oven cleaner, and some other items. 

When I got back with the stuff (I got Ron some grapes, because he needs to eat more fruits and veggies - stuff God makes), we had a short wait to the pickup.  That's unfortunate because Ron missed the coin jam.  We have to go back and fix that Monday. 

We came home, Ron ate some more grapes, then went into his man cave.  I read and reread the drain cleaner bottle.  It was a liquid poured into the drain and left for 30 minutes or longer.  I decided 45 minutes would be good.  The drain (kitchen) has a horrible slow drain. 

I forgot; Ron and his cat play in the sink.  He runs water for her, plugs the sink, and makes a little puddle.  So, when she saw me pouring drain cleaner, it seemed only natural for her to come along, try to put her paws in a puddle of lye, and stick her head in the drain flap, also soaked in lye.  I screamed at her, lunged, and pretended to bite her.  She ran off pretty quick.  When I finshed pouring, I put an upside down bowl over the drain and made sure the sink was clean (it had all run in by then).   Thank God I can see, and caught her. 

When the time was up, I ran water as directed and boy it drains so fast!  I am a big fan of lye now; not just for making soap. 

The cat came back and I gave her some treats.  She forgave me.  She'll never understand why I did it (not 'till we get to Heaven) but she forgave my erratic behavior. 

Cat treats cover a multitude of "sins".