June 25, 2003 @ 7:06 p.m.
How to be a Bad Girlfriend

I was thinking back to something that happened about two weeks ago, and I realised something that hadn't really struck me at the time.

It was, I think, a Saturday morning. Stuart and I were lying in bed talking about stuff in general (I was going to write 'shooting the shit', but that phrase just sounds kind of wrong when I'm talking about something I'm doing in bed with my boyfriend).

It got to talking about sex-related stuff. He asked me to list some of the wildest stuff I'd ever done sexually. In retrospect, I think what happened next served him right for using such a lame term as 'wild', but that's beside the point.

Without really thinking, I reeled off about half a dozen or so things that came to mind. Stuart went kind of quiet and, being kind of slow on the uptake, I asked him if my revelations had been 'wild' enough. He responded in the affirmative but was still kind of quiet for a while after that. I shrugged it off as nothing and steered the conversation in a different direction.

It wasn't until a few days later that I realised that out of that quick list of sexual exploits, not one exploit I'd mentioned had involved him.

Oops.

And it wasn't until a few days after that that it occurred to me that when your partner asks a question like that of you, that it's generally considered polite to include them in your subsequent list. Because what they really want to hear, even if they won't come out and say it and even if they're smug arrogant bastards like my significant other, is for you to tell them how damn fine they are. Generally, the correct response to "Do I rock the booty?" is "hell yeah, sugar!" NOT "Well, I suppose you do, but now let me tell you about this other person who also rocked the booty, and this other person too, oh, and don't let me forget these other people who come immediately to mind. And those are just the ones I don't have to think about."

For the record, I'd just like to state that there was no mention merely because it seemed bloody obvious. He knows what we get up to because he's there, in body if not mentally ("Wow, you really don't stop thinking about computers, do you?"). Unless he's got early onset Alzheimer's, he can remember all that stuff himself.

It just probably would have been nice of me to mention some of it, even if he wasn't fishing for confimations of studmuffindom. A little more of that, and a little less of the "You think the slutty side's just reserved for you? HA!"

Oh well. You know what they say: behind every good woman lies a trail of men.

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