Yawn And Stretch, But No Slip And Slide

My ass is tarred this mornin y'all. T-i-r-e-d. TIRED! Got up and all I wanna do is crawl underneath the covers. But no rest for the weary. Too many errands on tap today.

So the cause for my lack of rest? Who else? A stopped by last night. Well, I should say, Senior A and Junior A stopped over.

For those of you who don't know, 'Turo has a 3-year-old son, the spitting image of himself. Yeah, I know. This does present its fair share of concerns. Yes, I know. I'll blog about those uncertainties in a future post. Honestly though? Throwing caution to the wind? I'm tantalized by the possibility of having a little family of my own. Lady T and I never got around to having children, and despite my bitching, to the contrary, I actually wouldn't mind having a rug rat or two to carry on the family name.

Soooo... Junior decided to fall asleep while A and I were chatting up. Initially, A wanted to go, but yours truly managed to convince Senior for them both to stay. (I wasn't stupid. If 'Turo left my house, ain't no way was he gonna drag himself back out). Sure, I had to plead a little, might have lost some dignity, but it's all good. How often do you see a 39-year-old man beg a 30-year-old man to spend the night? Screams desperation, does it not? LOL. Naw, ol' boy was flattered for the attention. Besides, I think, no I know, he wanted me to ask as much as I wanted him to stay.

Not to worry either. Senior and I were on our best behavior whilst Junior slept. No need to contact Child Protective Services. No sex, no making out, no nothin' duuuurty occurred. Nothing went down but talk. And believe me, there's plenty we need to learn about one another. We've only known each other a little under a year.

Come to think of it, I ne'er explained to you all how 'Turo reentered my life after his "sabbatical," did I? Later. 'Nother post. Way too long to explain now.

Suffice to say, my "man," and I'm using the term loosely, is growing on me. I care about him, but I'm not diving into this blind. The sex is good. The conversation is enthusiastic. The connection is grand. But 'Turo still has to pass the trial by the jury, namely my closest friends. He's only met one, and not one whose esteemed opinion counts. Nope. Arturo has gotta meet the Queen and Lady of my life. Has to meet Adam, Rashawn, Leoban, and EJ. Hell, he even has to mama's seal of approval (someday). If any of those folks have an objections, much as I'm drawn to his fine Latin ass, he'll be outta here! No "ands," "ifs," or "buts."

See, unfortunately, and I hate admitting this but forever honesty on the blog, I have incredibly poor judgment when it comes to choosing boyfriends. No problems with choosing friends, just partners. Need I remind anyone? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Actually, to clarify, I'm talking about Napoleon. Several exes have been in that category.

Query? Should I even classify our thing as a "relationship" yet? I mean really, just because you have sex with somebody a few times, adore them a bit, does that make you in a relationship? Sadly, I refuse to answer my own question, despite knowing the probable answer.

Enough for now. Like my blogging brother Corey says, "I'll Keep You Posted....."
-Ian