We need to talk. I'm worried about you. Well I'm pre-worried about you. Are you going to be okay when I go on vacation for 5 days, Peanut? Am I going to come back from the coast to the East and find this blog full of tear-stained posts? Don't ruin your keyboard with the salty, salty tears of a clown.
Be strong. You can do this. Just do what you did lo those years ago before we met. NO, not drown your sorrows in Gin Rickeys and the company of strange men. Rather, you know, have intelligent conversations with people while laughing much less.
Someday we are going to have to figure out a way to work it where you and Natty Lite and G can come out and join us at Red Roof for the annual summer getaway. Someday when the Trips are in college and we're rocking caftans not so much for style points but because we're too old to work buttons and zippers.
Until then though I am excited to don my new button-fly boyfriend jeans, slouchy tee, paper weight cardigan and huge Flava Flav sized medallion necklace whilst sipping Sangria on the terrace...riiiiiight here.
Maybe I'll even have a Gin Rickey in your honor. (What is a Gin Rickey? I just think it sounds funny. It was that or a Sidecar, but when I started to type you and Sidecars in the company of strange men it sounded even more lewd than I intended.) Miss me already.
In MY world, we don't drink Gin Rickeys. We drink Mad Dog 20/20 or Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill wine from the bottle. In MY world, we eat Funyons and wear Bugles on the tips of our fingers and pretend we just got a manicure. In MY world we change 96 poopy diapers a day and have become quite adept at hurdling all of the baby gates placed strateically through the house. In my world, happy hour has been replaced by the witching hour, when allll the babies in all the land revolt and scream more or less continuously until the adults give up and go to bed....er....put THEM to bed. In my world, we sneak off to the bathroom, not because we are making out with a strange man in the loo, but because if we don't three ankle-biters will attempt to climb onto our lap whilst mid-stream, and have YOU ever tried to pee while fending off three babies????, and WE CERTAINLY DO NOT GO ON VACATION FOR FIVE DAYS AT A STRETCH, for the love of Lincoln's mullet. You are a cruel, cruel woman, Miss "I Will Be Hanging Out With Flava Flav Whilst Sipping Sangria On The Terrace." I hope you can live with yourself while I'm stuck here in Poopville.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Labels: Open Post