It's Saturday night and as I sit here in front of my space heater, laptop propped on my lap (covered in a Harry Potter throw blanket) and watching non-Olympic television I can hear my husband in the guest bathroom playing with his new GI Joes and I have to wonder: What have our weeekends come to?
Last weekend was a reunion and pageant filled stressfest that happily concluded by Monday so this weekend should have been a snoozefest. Instead, Harry hops out of bed at 7am to go to the mall to sit with other men equally as obsessed with a tall black man and his retro'd footwear packs.
I opted to stay in bed and had just flipped on the tv and begun to watch "Josh and Drake" on the Disney channel before my cell phone rang.
I sleepily lunged for it and flipped it open.
"Hello?" I said into the pink phone while I fought against falling back asleep into my cooling puddle of drool on the satiny pillow case.
"How much do you love me?" I smiled. Harry always does this before buying me something or bringing me something that he knows I want or must have. I grin and stretch.
"A lot, why?"
"Cuz I left my wallet at home and need for you to bring it up to the mall to me."
"Fine. What time do I need to be there?" I ask while peering at the clock on the bedside table that read 7:15am.
"Fine. I'll be there by then."
I hung up the phone and contemplated running away from home before remembering how much I truly hate to pack. So I got up and slapped on some lipstick so as to not scare a fellow driver into a four car pile up from my ghastly pale face.
Forty minutes later I arrive at the mall with some Chick-fil-a chicken minis, a large diet coke and a man's wallet.
I swear, after last weekend's pre-ten-year-reunion cleaning fest and today's "fetch me my wallet, bitch" errand - I should have enough brownie points to earn me something really cool. Or shiny. Or both.
Instead - we bought a Plasma tv for our basement.
:) Oh - and I got a hair cut and a new hue for my impending 25+5 birthday: