Welcome to the Weekly Guest Blogger series.
Tonight’s guest blogger is Rachel Thompson, bestselling author of A Walk in the Snark. For more about Rachel, click on her photo to visit her website.
I’ve written about RENT-A-HUSBAND before.
Ya know, when I was sick with pneumonia and the doc ordered me to bed rest; and husband needed a nap to keep up with our two kids. After four hours.
Well, I’m not exactly sick now.
I just need a little TLC. Deadlines, back to school, migraines. Nothing major, but stuff that can add up over time, ya know?
So, I’m thinking I need Cabana Boy.
No, it’s not what you think.
Well, okay it kinda is.
I write a lot. My neck gets tight. As do my shoulders and back. I stretch, do yoga, go for walks. Still, I could really use a massage by the end of each day.
But husband just isn’t that into the whole massage thing. Sure, when we were dating his hands were all over me, as happens when you can’t get enough of each other in that first dreamy, romance-novel stage of early love, when he would massage me like any good eagle scout looking to earn a new badge.
Surely you remember…when you do it like bunnies?
Now though? Nineteen years later? Sure, he loves his Red. But massaging me is at the end of a very long daily To Do list. Plus he’s ten years older than I—and we have two children: twelve-year old tween girl artiste prone to drama and six year old boy child obsessed with incredibly intricate Legos.
Husband is one tired man.
I don’t take it personally. I know he loves me. And hey, I have the kids’ precious little hands that work just fine—though Hot Wheels up and down the back just don’t seem to be doing the job.
Somehow it’s not the same.
I bought one of those massager thingies that you don’t use in a naughty way. And it’s alright. But it’s kinda, I don’t know, machine-like.
I could go get a massage. Plenty of day spas here in Orange County. But time and money are tight.
Which brings me to Cabana Boy.
I think every chick should have one.
It really is the ideal solution.
- He can massage me whenever I want.
- I can dress him however I want. Imagine the possibilities!
- He can be my eye candy to provide the all-important eye stimulation, necessary for um, something I’ll convince myself of at some future date that has to do with writing and computer blah blah something something.
- He can bring me chocolate.
- And, most importantly, martinis.
See, he’d be different from RENT-A-HUSBAND cause he’d be there to cater to my physical needs (if you’ve ever lived with a woman, you know that chocolate counts as a physical need), like sore muscles and stress. Whereas, the rental husband is more like the Honey-Do guy, who grocery shops and fixes stuff.
Really, it’s hard to find one husband who can do it all these days. No wonder men feel overwhelmed.
This really isn’t a bad way to go.
In an ideal world, every chick should have her main guy, plus a rental husband and a cabana boy. Her trifecta. Her ménage…
Ooh, and wouldn’t it be cool if he looked like Brad Pitt? Well, back when Brad Pitt looked like Brad Pitt?
There shouldn’t be any jealousy. I’d be paying only for services rendered, right? And while he’d be doing lots of cool stuff for me, it’s not like he’d be um, doing me (though some massage therapists do have very good hands)…ahem.
Sorry. Where was I?
Now you may argue that you have all that wrapped up in your man. I say good for you, girlfriend. All men are certainly capable of doing all those things (well, the fixing stuff can be questionable).
So is mine. But let’s be real. Daily life can be a grind and even with the best of intentions, sometimes we’re lucky if we can fit in time for each other before falling into bed, exhausted.
I say give our guys a break! Bring in extra (Brad) help. Give your man a chance to watch you be pampered, fawned over, flirted with. Not to freak him out or upset him.
We’re not playing games here, ladies. We don’t um, mess around when it comes to Cabana Boy.
This is all to help your man, you see. Let him rest, chill, relax from the stress of having to take care of you. He’s been calling you a piece of work for years. It’s time to give him a break, doll.
— Blink —
Like how I did that?
Nineteen years of marriage, baby. Definitely comes in handy.
Now, where did I put that massage oil?
I would like to give a huge thanks to Rachel for making me laugh tonight. Be sure to check out Rachel’s website for more of her special brand of snark! Follow her on Twitter at @RachelintheOC where she’s often referred to as either the Queen of Snark or BadRedhead. She’s can’t imagine why.
Until the next time…I’ll be planning next week’s guest blog!