Mommy’s Night In

In typical fashion we waited until the last minute to try to get a sitter on Saturday night and found ourselves stuck.  It was RB’s friend Weezy’s 40th birthday bash, and although it was being held in a North Buffalo bar near her home (those of us from the South have an ingrained reluctance to leave our hood, and a twenty odd minute ride on Saturday night is a huge deterrent.  No really, it’s a thing) I felt like he really should go to represent our clan for several reasons:

  • It had been brought up as a point of contention during a fight recently that he never got to go out with his friends.  My response?  Fucking go!  Find something to do and I’d be happy to let you.  Please.
  • RB had been out on comp for two months, and had literally just went back to work the day before.  It was a nice chance for him to catch up with his buddies in a fun way, not at work.
  • I wanted the house to myself.  Yes, the “But I want to go out with you” and “It’s not fair you should stay home while I go out”s were very sweet, but see number one: I love you, now get the fuck out.  I see you all the time. 
  • After quietly leaving the third LuLaRoe party I had been invited to this month, my girlfriend texted me Saturday afternoon to let me know she wasn’t sure if I had seen her Facebook posts (oh yes, I did) but I was more than welcome to swing by her parents’ house for some snacks and a drink.  No obligation to buy anything!  Just an opportunity to hang out.  As sweet as my girlfriend is and as good as I’m sure her intentions were I have been avoiding this shit for a reason and currently do not have extra $25 to buy – as I’ve been told by literally everyone in the world  the most comfortable leggings ever.  I don’t even wear leggings.  (Or use Pampered Chef, Jamberry, or whatever else is being slung.  I just can’t.)  
  • Weezy (who is now his supervisor) was the one who pointed out to RB one magical night four years ago that, after ingesting several glasses of liquid courage over several hours, I was hitting on him and he should probably stay out later than he had planned (my subtleties were going over his head). 

After some time I convinced him to go without me, which he did begrudgingly, and proceeded to have an awesome time by myself!  Here are some things I didn’t do:

  • Switch over the laundry
  • Fold any of the 3 loads already done and sitting in various rooms around the house
  • Sweep, steam or scrub any floors
  • Do any housework whatsoever
  • Blog (this I actually did want to do)
  • Give a fuck about any of the above, except maybe the blogging since it’s been weeks since I last posted anything

Instead, here are the things I did do:

  • Literally kicked my feet up and sprawled out on the couch.  It was unusually comfortable without a second person sitting there, taking up precious couch space.  
  • Started watching Amy Schumer’s HBO special (again) and actually laughed out loud.  When was the last time you did that?
  • Paused the show, got up, and poured myself a tall cherry vodka and soda.  Took a couple of cold sips and peered into the freezer, feeling both defiant and brave
  • Found a frozen garlic bread pizza and silently declared tonight would be a night I shamelessly devoured carbs!  And did I.  I later regretted eating the entire thing by myself, but what the hell?  Woohoo Saturday night! 
  • Calmed the babe down, gave him Tylenol, sucked out some snot and passed out with him in our rocker for a little bit
  • Continued getting in touch with my dirty feminist side and finished watching Amy’s show, stuffing my face and laughing loudly.  I then proceeded to watch whatever else I wanted to for the next hour and a half.  It was amazing
  • Answered the phone when my mom called and stayed on the phone with her for about 45 minutes.  Even though she kinda ruined my buzz and was questioning every choice we made about our upcoming home renovations it was nice to catch up with her. 
  • Sent RB a text advising him if he happened to bring any candy home I would definitely eat it, but I didn’t want him to go out of his way.  
  • Ate two candy bars after he got home and didn’t feel guilty abiut it (until the next morning)

I’d say the weekend was a success, and I hope yours was too.  Cheers! 


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