"Why" I do naughty things is truly a valid question. I have a dear friend who tells me that if I were his wife, we would have been divorced by now. Yikes! Too true. There are not many men who would voluntarily put up with my antics. In answer to the question, naughtiness is an actual gene which can be traced back through the Baxter/Bahan female genetic code for generations. It's both a blessing and a curse. It drives some people crazy, angers others, and can lure men in like the tease of an exotic perfume. Yes, the women in my family are born with it but it's also a skill which must be honed; somewhat like witchcraft.
For years I watched my mother with my dad. He adored her but she drove him absolutely nuts. Not a day would go by without my dad grumbling, cursing, or complaining about something that had to do with my mother. Who was it that succeeded in getting what she wanted? Yes, my dear friends and blog readers, the Queen Bee - my mama. Yet, somehow at the end of every day, my mother was always giggling, my dad too, and no one went to bed angry. Pure genius.
I realized that I had this gift early; however, I knew that by the time Eric and I became engaged, I'd finally graduated to my mother's skill set. One day, my sweet fiance and I were watching TV in his parent's living room. As young lovers are prone to do, we couldn't keep our hands off of one another. Suddenly, my naughty side came roaring out. I knew where we were, I knew making a lot of noise would give us away, but I couldn't contain myself...WHACK!
"OUCH! BREEZY! WHY DID YOU SLAP ME?"
"Because YOU, Eric Potts are NOT a gentleman!"
Eric, completely surprised, started laughing..."WHAT?!"
It was all I could do to keep a straight face, but I managed. "How DARE you take advantage of me! I'm not some cheap so and so to be man handled like this in your parent's home! I'm LEAVING!"
"Are you serious?!"
Mr. Potts, Eric's father, walked into the room. "Is everything ok in here?" Eric took a sharp intake of breath. Granted, he and I were 29 years old and engaged but having his father walk in must have been excrutiating.
I looked up at Mr. Potts (now affectionately known as, Pop) and with a sly grin said, "Oh yeah, Bill. Sorry we bugged you. I was just being extremely naughty with your son."