It is these three words that describe me this weekend. And as if these three words alone don't already make me feel dreadful, my husband splattered that icing right on the cake.
Scenario #1
I am in Wal-Mart. I am shopping alone and loving the fact that I am shopping alone. I hear a child screaming. He has been screaming for quite some time. But he is not mine and therefore I tune him out. A gentlemen then approaches me and says, "You would never let your kids act like that, would you?" I giggle and tell him I left mine at home. Then I get very offended that this man assumes I have children. No, no. I am offended that I look old enough that strangers feel comfortable assuming I have kids. I can no longer hope to slide by as a college student or even a mid-twenties newlywed. And then I get to the checkout and the guy doesn't even card me for beer. Old.
Scenario #2
A button pops off my pants. I have what I call a "post partum" body. I am okay with it, but for some reason have neglected to buy myself a post partum wardrobe. I just keep shoving myself into pants from many moons ago. And now I am breaking them. Fat.
Scenario #3
I spanked Isis for the first time. We were taking a lovely walk with one of her best friends, "Buh." As we walked together holding hands, Isis and Buh decided to play the "Go Limp" game. You know, the one where you are holding their hands and they decide to let their entire body go limp and dangle from your hands and laugh hysterically. This was fun for about two rounds. But after many verbal pleas I knew I needed more. Spank. She stood in the driveway with her head down and pouted. My eyes filled with tears. I am Satan. I later explained to her that I was sorry and that I did not like spanking her. She patted her bottom and said, "Hurt Mommy." Satan twice.
The Icing on the Cake
As if it isn't bad enough to be Fat, Old Satan, my husband informed me that I was looking rather 80's tonight. He made sure to point out that my black pants could almost be spandex and that my sweatshirt was oversized. It didn't help that my hair was pulled up high on my head and my shirt tail was hanging out of my oversized sweatshirt, dangling onto my spandex. So I headed upstairs to write about how great I was feeling and as I closed the door, I heard the tune ringing from his lips, "Faaaaame! I'm gonna live forever...."
2 comments:
But did you do an 80's dance in private while singing Fame? Isis is what, 2? And just now getting spanked? That's pretty good. I think I spanked Laish at 3months old. Great. Now I'm humming the tune....
Oh, honey. I'm sorry you had a rough go of it this past week. Just so you know...
You are NOT old.
You are NOT fat.
And, you are most certainly NOT satan.
As for your eighties-look? I say, as long as he comments on it, keep it up!:-)
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