So, after just a few days of taking the spotlight off of OH MY GOD, HOW CAN WE CHEER DADDY UP? I am proud to announce that he's back on track, he wore a red shirt to work, I got a pedicure and well, let me tell you that there are other details, boudoir details, that you only WISH you were privy to.
I left the house last night, as the girls were playing some kind of intolerable football game with Kurt where he steals a ball out of their hands and tosses it, and they pretend to whine and dive on the ground, crawling after the ball while he holds on to their pants and says, "No! It's my ball now!" and they kick and scream and laugh and eventually break free and grab the ball. And then this repeats about a thousand noisy times. It was exactly the sort of game that wouldn't have been taking place if I was staying home.
Almost a whole year ago, my beautiful friend, Miss Jessica, gave me a gift card to get a pedicure, and I never did it! I found it in a drawer yesterday and saw that it expired in a few days, so I made an appointment and left Daddy and the girls to come up with something fun to do without me. IMAGINE. (I think they managed.)
Can I take a moment to say that getting a pedicure was totally weird? I felt like such a big, fat American, being like, "Finish with my feet now, tiny foot scrubber lady, so that I can get back to my fancy coffee and smutty novel about boys with magical powers taking their shirts off!" It was also kind of awesome, though, and my toes look totally cute. I never would have paid money for this service, so THANK YOU, beautiful friend.
I came home to a quiet, tidy house and a happy husband. We watched Dance Moms, which, by the way, what the fuck, Abby? That duet was the shit. There's NO WAY that dance was second place material.
And then we did things that would make your mama blush. Okay. I'll admit it. They made ME blush when I woke up this morning and remembered what we'd done, and I'm not exactly a fresh and tender little peach.
So, what does all of this mean? It means exactly what you've been suspecting... that I am a total genius at life.
Here's where I adopt a somber tone, though. The dark side of all of this is that the laundry pile has gotten out of control again. There is soap scum in the shower. The things that I've been putting off being happy for. Yeah. It's happening and it's totally unwieldy. We're getting through this the best we can. It's all we can do. Pray for us, anonymous emailers and commenters, who are sure that my marriage is failing and my life is in shambles. My baby is even climbing on the pile of clothes and saying, "Mountain climb!" We're all going to need some serious counseling after I take this next load out of the dryer. If I'm not careful, the laundry may turn on me and find a younger, quieter, more ladylike maid with a better attitude who doesn't complain.