This is a true account of a pretty typical moment in the life of Darren and Amanda.

Okay, it may not have been completely typical. It was a great Sunday morning. We'd gotten up early and went out to breakfast. Then, stuffed with pancakes, we waddled around the mall with all the mall-walkers, wishing the stores were open. We returned back to my apartment building and were walking down the hallway holding hands and being in love and all that sappy shit.

So I decided to push Darren into a wall. He outweighs me by about a hundred pounds so I really had to throw my body into it but I caught him off balance and unaware and it was AWESOME. (Anyone who knows Darren knows it's acceptable for me to toss him around every now and then because he's beating the crap out of me more often than not.)

Needless to say Darren wasn't amused and I feared immediate retribution. He told me to stop cowering like a pansy because he wasn't going to do anything, so I began walking again. I glanced back nervously at first, then continued on more confidently when I realized he was serious about not doing anything. I was worried. He was just going to let me win? What the hell was happening to us?

With that, we entered the stairwell, myself in the lead and Darren pulling up the rear. As we huffed and puffed up the stairs, My Favorite Man yanked on the hood of my sweatshirt so hard that I inaudibly choked and phlegm shot out of my throat and landed three stairs up.

I stopped to regain my composure and he continued in front of me. I followed him up, thinking about how awesome the hood thing was and deciding I needed to do something awesome too. I couldn't think of anything to do and impulse told me to do something, ANYTHING, so I reached up between his legs as he tromped up the stairs and gave his testicles a good, hearty squeeze.

As I raced up the remaining stairs to my apartment and Darren reeled in pain, all I could think was, "I hope it's always like this."