"Auuuch…"
he says. But I can't cook anything since he has to work for one more hour and
I'm going to run. My regular run. That was actually David's and Daniel's idea.
Daniel is a sport maniac and David needs to stay fit. (And to lose weight into
XXXXXS jeans, I suppose.)
So I'm
preparing him some corn flakes and he says: “And will I get my own bowl?!” he's
scared that I'm planning to eat it with him which I won't. “You know that I'm
going to run, are you? I'm not going to eat, this one's just for you.” He signs
with relief. Then he waits till I put his yoghurt on his corn flakes and open a
bottle of nuttela. And Daniel is watching us with his critical eye as if he was
saying: “What's the point in trying anyway?” but he's silent.
What I
definitely need to mention is that David isn't retarded! He's incredibly sexy
and hot. He really does look GOOD. He's handsome. Blond, tall, skinny. He has
the cutest smile in the whole world. He has dark eyes and is so sweet when he's laughing.
And
he's great in bed. Period. (This is the last time you hear me saying something
like that.)
He can
be serious, he really can. And attractive. But most of the time he deliberately
chooses to act silly. As a child or rather as someone who can afford to act in
a childish way and still remain absolutely irresistible.
Yes,
sometimes he gets on my nerves. (Only mine because Markus is never fed up with
him.)
And
yes, sometimes he gets lost in his own plays and games and forgets to be
“normal” again. But this is David. This is him. It belongs to him. To be the
centre of the attention. All the time. (He competes with his best friend Victor
though. Sometimes they even fight who gets more attention for longer time.)
Back
to Gnocchi.
I put
the Håkan Hälström CD into the player and I call for David to help me with
making home-made gnocchi. He can do that. He helped me many times. We cooked
the potatoes. Now we are making the pastry. And David has to separate the yolks
and he hates eggs. Very sad since Markus, his boyfriend adores eggs. He needs
to have at least one every day. So David is making sounds of discuss and I´m
ignoring him.
“Asch eggs…. And asch meal….”
“But you love them to eat.” I
remark.
“Sure but they are discussing…”
After that we have to make some
“snakes” like we call it from the pastry and cut it into pieces. David invented
cool method how to make round gnocchi, so he does them and he throws them into
the boiling water in a way the water jumps from the pot everywhere, on the
walls and also on him. He doesn’t give a shit. Throwing gnocchi is certainly
more fun that just insert them carefully to the hot water. I'm careful not to
say anything, he is allergic on critic. I can't say anything. I tried once or
twice and you can't imagine the crazy reaction and anger. Must be some issue
from his formative years.
“Finally
you're cooking me something from potatoes, again.” He comments. Which sounds like
he who loves potatoes so much never gets them and it's only me who choose the
meal. Partly true.
While
we're doing this monotone activity, Håkan is playing some romantic songs and
it's everything so very romantic. Me and David and pastry everywhere and Håkan
sings: “I'm twenty one….” And David adds: “No you are not…” and when the CD
continues and Håkan has the courage to repeat his thoughts again: “I'm just
sixteen..” David gets almost irritated. “What's his problem? He's old, isn't
he?” and there is no point in explaining that this is just poetic licence of
him, cause David hates Håkan from some reason and make me hard time right
now.
“Are
you going to make some sauce as well?” he asks and I will, so he leaves me and
goes to check instagram or facebook or whatever and when the meal is finished
I'm so tired that I am hardly able to eat. And when he finishes first his
portion he looks at me suspiciously: “I must have given you one gnocchi more,
since you haven't finished yet.”
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