For those that don’t know, on Wendy’s facebook page, we stumbled across the hilarious tradition of ‘claiming husbands’ from the many celebs we all love. There are a maximum of two husbands to be had and you can’t have a husband that someone else has. Your hubby is yours and the only person who can ‘borrow’ him is Wendy if she needs or wants him for a story. This has lead to many hilarious conversations of husband swapping and sharing and the like.
Anyway, somehow, (and I have no idea how coz I have the worst luck ever), I got THE husband to end all husbands: Alex. Still no clue how that happened but hey! I’m not going to complain. When this happened however, through a very odd conversation, it was decided that I was his legit wife and Rissa was his other wife but this has morphed along the way. So long story short, my co-wife and I happily share Alex and frequently fend off those who would steal him. *OURS!!!!!!*
So anyway, a few weeks ago someone said something in chat that got my brain thinking and this is what came out. I dedicate this to my wifey, Rissa. I know you’ve already seen this wifey, but enjoy anyway!
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Mr Skarsgard soon would be there.
The wifeys were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Skarsy’s pectorals danced in their heads.
And Rissa in her jammies, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down to dream of his lap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a towering Viking, wearing tiny elves gear.
With a shout that was loud, that it woke all the neighbours,
I flew down the stairs, imagining all of his flavours.
More rapid than eagles my running did seem,
He had finally come, (if you know what I mean)!
“Now Shazza! Now, Rissa! Now, there’s more than enough!
Of me for you both, no need to get rough!
To the top of the porch! Or against the wall!
Now where do you want me, When midnight bells call?”
Like limpets on rocks, and gum on a shoe,
We clung to our hubs, and in his ear we did coo.
So up to the bedroom the trio did fly,
How we actually flew, no-one asked why..
And then, in a twinkling, his clothes hit the floor
And there in his glory, he stood in the raw.
His wifeys, we drooled, and we sighed out loud,
For our hubs was perfection, he’d always make us proud.
He was dressed in nothing, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all crumpled by the bed, at the foot.
His abs were glistening in the moonlight that streamed,
And his pecs were dazzling, and looked really lean.
His eyes had a twinkle as he watched us both drool,
Before we leapt on him, (Hey, we aren’t two fools!)
His laughter rung out into the cold night,
As he hugged us both close, and held on so tight.
The glorious ‘love maker’, (that phrase makes me snicker),
Was quite large for flaccid, and a great deal thicker,
Than Sharon has seen or imagined at all,
And she knew this Christmas, she would have a ball!
He was gorgeous, and naked and alone in their room,
If anyone had asked, we’d have leapt over the moon!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his lips,
And that glorious smirk turned us into giant drips.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the “stockings”, we so humbly brought.
And laying his fingers aside of our cheeks,
He made out toes curl, with a kiss not weak!
When suddenly we woke, with a sigh and a scream,
Life is too cruel, It was just a dream.
And as we lay back and cried with all our might,
A Swedish voice called, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”