I was beyond over joyed to learn that my work-a-holic, barely home hubby had the day off yesterday. This almost never happens. Ok, to be honest, I was overjoyed at 10am…then it kinda slipped to thrilled by noon, and suffocated by 3pm. It’s not that I don’t adore him to absolute pieces (because I SO do babe, for reals), it’s more like, I am used to being a “single mommy,” and basically, he is invading my turf. I have things I wait to do until after he heads to the office, and now that he was gonna be around all day…when the crap am I going to have the private time I need to pop my blackheads in the magnifying mirror or Nair my upper lip? Pretty doesn’t just happen on it’s own these days, sweetie.
I am sure hubby sensed my growing animosity, and he suggested a sushi date…alone…as in…no kids. This hasn’t happened in, well, almost a year. My life has become an episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond” these days, and between the kids, the house, and him being gone for work all the time, I feel about as pretty and sexy as Deborah Barone did, pre-boob job (You know, when she had that lame Dorothy Hamill haircut from the 70’s/80’s?).
So, I got all prettied up, which was, as always, rendered useless as I tackled the boys down into clean clothes and diapers, plus readied their huge diaper bag with the necessities. And, while hubby looked effortlessly adorable, having just spent the hour playing WOW…I, on the other hand, was a sweaty mess. Such is life (Can I please just change back into my leggings? Please? I only feel pretty in stretchy pants these days.).
Dinner was delicious. Yokos has the most amazing sushi, and the wine made me giddy. So giddy, in fact, that I didn’t even notice the huge splash of soy sauce on my shirt until we were walking out. Nice.
But, in an effort to keep me blissfully happy, hubby whisked me off to Old Navy for a new shirt…and whatever else I could con him into buying me.
First off, when did a sherbet colored safari throw up all over the inside of Old Navy?
Secondly, I appreciate, hubby, that you think I could still get away with wearing that little bikini. I promise you, however, this is not the case. I have pretty much been reduced to strictly tankinis, being as my stomach has so many stretch marks it looks like I was on the losing end of a vicious cat fight.
On that note, I left Old Navy empty handed, and after a quick high school grade make out session in the car, we picked the boys up and headed back home.
So here I am. Back in my single mommy, tankini reality.
I’ll make a deal with you though sweetie, you get me my Deborah Barone boob job, and possibly a tummy tuck, I’ll clean the whole God damn house in a bikini.