On Fridays for the month of December (and until I grow tired of doing it), I’ll feature a post from my old blog. These may or may not be any good. (And yes, I’m well aware that today is Monday and NOT Friday. I have no good excuse.)
From June 2006
Did you know my husband has a girlfriend?
Uh-huh. He sure does. Her name is Suze. Except you don’t say it the way it looks. Soo-zee. Not Sooz. Whatever.
My husband’s girlfriend is money savvy. Something I’m not. That’s the only reason I allow this little “thing” to continue.
But she’s also a TiVo hog. Even in the middle of the night, when my husband is in bed with me and can’t be with her, the little red glow of the recording light lets me know that Soo-zee is visiting.
Every now and then, Fred will suggest that he and I spend some time with his girlfriend. Together. I’m a modern girl. Okay, I say. As long as she knows who’s married to whom.
We spent some time with Soo-zee last night. She wanted to tell us all about being a first time home-buyer. I guess that’s her idea of pillow talk. Didn’t really work for me, but she’s not my girlfriend. However, she does take phone calls (I know! More people to invite into our little circle. Aren’t we the kinky ones?), and will sometimes completely berate the callers, so that’s fun to watch.
Soo-zee frightens me. She has lots of PEP! and ZEAL! and she calls everyone “boyfriend” and “girlfriend.” (I straightened her out on that one. “Soo-zee,” I said, “I cannot be your girlfriend. I’m married. And you’re way too old for me. But thanks.”) She also talks about things called FICO scores. Did you know about these? They can mean lifelong financial success or sudden financial ruin. One little number.
In order to deal with Soo-zee’s PEP! and ZEAL! last night (and because, while I’m a modern girl, I’m still MARRIED), I needed a glass of wine. So I had two.
After Soo-zee had left, Fred bathed in something akin to a post-coital glow, me digging through the refrigerator looking for another bottle of wine, we did something we should never do: we attempted to have a serious conversation about the paranormal versus science while one of us is slightly inebriated. What a disaster that was. Me, trying to make a coherent point, stumbling over my words, Fred just shaking his head. I finally gave up. And ate a biscuit.
In other news, today my work schedule changed such that I didn’t have to be in until 11 this morning. On a typical morning, Emma wakes up around 5:30. I entertain her in bed (= let her gnaw on my hand) while Fred showers. Then he takes her, changes her, dresses her, and feeds her while I continue sleeping, usually until 6 or 6:30, at which point I stumble downstairs for coffee if he hasn’t brought it up already. Yeah, he’s a saint, I’m a slacking bitch.
Last night, I told Fred that I would take Emma to day care, and since he would have to leave work early to pick her up, he could leave early in the morning. I even said I would get up with her when she got up, so he could shower and go. He just squinted and looked at me funny. I don’t think he believed me.
This morning, 5:30 came and went, and Emma was still sleeping. Fred showered and went downstairs. At 6:00 she was still sleeping. At 6:30 I got out of bed and got coffee, and she was STILL sleeping. In fact, we had to wake her up (which, frankly, is the best thing ever. She blinks her eyes open slowly, and then she smiles the biggest smile when she sees us).
I love this child. She understands that Mommy just doesn’t function before 6. Bless her.