this week's flash fiction friday

the last time i completed an fff piece this fast, it got panned, and i re-learned the value of editing, even for a piece that looks much to short to possibly need a word-dump.
but i really believe this one is ready, and even though grims didn't quite feel me the 1st time around, he agrees that this is improved. and i think it's done, so if i'm wrong, please be constructive.
as every friday, courtesy jj in purgatory:

The children are gone... and i can’t wait to play.
waiting for this moment was like waiting for the bus when you really have to pee and it’s freezing and windy and you’re underdressed and have to transfer to get where you’re going to pick up this 1 thing for your mom and then turn around and take those 2 buses all the way back home before your bladder can finally let go.
so now that i’ve allowed myself to go completely limp with that breath of release, i can pull myself together just enough to get set up to indulge.
i pour myself a larger-than-a-host-would jug of bug juice and ease on down the corridor to the bedroom, tanker’s “bassment party” buzzing happily in the back of my mind – not the wine, just anticipation, for now. i lose my chuck’s and collect slippers as i glide over, set down my glass, and dump my jersey on the bed.
my bug juice and i regroup and find the master bathroom, prepared late last night when i gratefully realised i’d have this time alone, and i feel the tingle in my toes, running up my body like static electricity. i make my feet slow down, trying to delay gratification for one more thrill of almost-not-yet-sooncome, but as they bring me to the blue, fuzzy-but-not-shaggy bathmat i find my breathing has already picked up their prior rapidity.
i pull back the seethrough plastic curtain glowing with the diffused aura of my delight, slip out of my slippers, and step in, one slow metatarsal at a time.
as i lower my ass into the inviting pool, i smile with gentle amusement at peach jell-o squishing up between my thighs.

walk good.