My Honeypot? Kensi’s Journal 2/21/2021

2/21/21

It was kind of depressing to start the day with yet another appointment with our fertility doctor.  Being a pin-cushion while the nurse showed Deeks how to inject me with hormones was another necessary step in our journey to (hopefully) become parents.  But oooh boy, the way the day ended more than made up for it!  I figured that when I used “honeypot” and my baby voice to get Deeks to ask Kirkin for help again that I’d be paying for it at some point, and I’m sure I will if Deeks gets his way (I still can’t believe I resorted to such manipulation of my hubby for work—normally I only do that when I want him to give me a back rub or bring me a pint of rocky road while I’m in the tub).

But never in a million years could I have guessed that the result would be the photo shoot to end all photo shoots.  Sure, most of those get-ups were beyond outlandish, and one even reminded me of that dress I wore that looked like a cross between a jellyfish and a swan.  But Kirkin has a good eye when it comes to the male figure, and several of the outfits looked like they were created just for my man’s figure.  Speaking of, Deeks in that suit earlier in the day?  Yum-my. Also, hearing him recount, complete with the lawyer-speak, his interaction with the DOJ agent?  Quite the turn on. 😉  Shame I’m not ovulating right now, because we’re about to have a very active evening.  Oh well, no harm in some fun I’m-tipsy-from-too-much-champagne-and-my-husband-is-a-sexy-beast sex.

I really, really, really want to feel bad for Deeks having to model for Kirkin, but I can’t lie, it was a blast to watch him in front of the camera once he finally gave up and went along with the whole ridiculous thing.  Admittedly, the champagne may have had something to do with it, but it’s been a while since I’ve laughed like that (and not at my own jokes).  All the stress of trying to get pregnant, buying (or not) a house, selling (or not) the bar, Deeks’ furlough, and his struggles at FLETC have had us so down lately that tonight’s silliness was just what I needed.  Hell, the last time I remember feeling that giddy was when Deeks told me his stripper (sorry, exotic dancer) persona was Jack from Titanic.  We had a great night then, too, come to think of it…and now it’s time to stop writing and fantasizing about tonight’s fun, and time to do something about it.