Pepe the Houseguest

I have a houseguest whose names is Pepe. This is ridiculous enough, but it's worse. He wears pants that are too small in the entire pelvic region, front and back; really too narrow describes them better than too small and if you can imagine, this makes his name, Pepe, even more ludicrious. Somehow, he does not have a muffin top in these pants. I think that it is because his pelvic region is bulgier than normal human proportions. So his waistband suits his dimensions. It is an unusual body. I have examined it furtively, through the crack between the refrigerator door and the box. It is so odd, this narrowness of pants and waist, yet bulgy, feminine pelvis. His legs are thin too. He is only pelvically bulgy. I have caught my children looking at him oddly. For them it might be other things. His tendency to sing songs he claims are Chinese opera, maybe... The songs sound like Spanish, but they are definitely not Spanish. They just have a Spanish sound with Chinese operatic qualities. This is very unpleasing. My daughter, she of the long eyebrows and deep silences, makes a dramatic face and archly leaves the room, trailing her crochet yarn behind her. My son, of the decidedly more joyful cheeks can barely contain himself. He looks at me first, his face near bursting, runs away and is howling all the way up the stairs. I smile and stick my head back into the refrigerator to examine his odd physique. In fairness, he sings his Chinese opera this way because of the poor voice quality on his computer. He doesn't know better.

It is not my fault he is here. Okay...it is my fault he is here. DH tells me so, and he is right and being a real sport about it. I think he finds the juxtaposition of himself and Pepe as working in his favor. Which it is.

But it is not my fault he is here except that I told him he could stay. But at the time, I only thought he had a bulgy pelvis and really who cares? I did not know he ate only at 1am and 4am and that he was unable to get wet. Any part of him. Unable to be wet.

I think this is why I am so fascinated with his bulgy pelvis and narrow pants, just the thought of what is going on in there piques my curiosity as a storyteller. Frankly, this is why I don't tell him to leave. I am waiting for him to ferment completely, just to see what happens.

You might be wondering how I dare to write a blogpost about Pepe, considering he is my houseguest. Well, on top of everything else, Pepe is blind, which is why I had to say he could stay when he found himself without alternatives in a cruel December. Pepe is blind, and he has a computer, but the voice quality of his reader is so poor that it sounds like his Spanish/Chinese opera, which is why he sings as he does. He doesn't know any better.

Today, Pepe is making dinner. I plan to feed the kids on the way home from school and then just come home and see what happens. Their directions are not to eat anything Pepe gives them, but to smile and nod and say, "mmmmmm." We can do this because Pepe is blind.

Comments

  1. You are a saint, and somehow I feel guilty for thinking that many of those descriptions of Pepe are things I have long wished for. How often have I dreamed of being able to eat at 1am and still be able to wear something that is too narrow without having a muffin top? I am wearing a pair of jeans now that my be considered a little too loose and I'm still sporting the MT. and don't even get me started on my opinions of what could be considered too bulgy!!

    oxox
    *** / ***

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  2. Dear boygonemad,

    I have a solution. Bollywood gear. Bollywood gear, tailored correctly, can even hide a JLo butt and certainly muffin tops. Bollywood gear incorrectly tailored, however, push the mt's up toward the pectorals and create mb's, or man boobs. Those are worse. Pepe does not have man boobs, just pb's, Pelvic Bulgies. Pepe, btw, went on a date last night, but he wouldn't say with whom. He insisted on waiting for his date on the driveway. I asked him how he would know he was getting in the right car, what with the blindness, and he actually said he would know by the smell of the exhaust. I tried to watch through the window, but it all must have gone down when I went to turn down the chicken broth I was making for **squash soup** When I got back, poof, he was gone...

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