My boys are going to Battleship Cove on Friday Night. With the Cub Scouts. 40 Boys, and about 37 dads and moms. I'm not going. This kind of thing befalls the daddy. I feel for him -- but it is the price to pay for having a boy and saying "We should get Geoff into Cub Scouts!"
Heh.
So, while they're away doing boy things on a Battleship, I'm going to take Jessica and a friend to get pedicures and go out to dinner. We'll be joined by my good friend C, and it will be lovely, thank you very much.
I'd never had a pedicure before early February. I don't know what I was thinking not going and doing this. I thought it was stupid and fruity and a waste of damn money.
Now, I want one weekly. No. Daily. I want a daily pedicure. With foot rub and soak and calf massage. I want to be treated like the queen that I am. Worship me. Lavish me with attention and relaxation. Hit that pressure point on the base of my foot, no, the one there at the arch -- yes. That's it.
I live for this.
I hope Doug enjoys his Boys' Night on the Boat. I know I'll enjoy being out with the girlies.
I'm allowing Jessie's friend to sleep over. Jessica is going over her house after school and then I have to drive up here and get them. Too much driving for my liking but it is what it is, and it has to be done. The price I pay for working in Marblehead.
Speaking of Marblehead, I went to go get lunch today. Normally, we don't go out for lunch, but D was going to McDonalds and I didn't want anything from there.
There were electricians, and noises, and distractions a-plenty in my office today, so I ran screaming for the door. I ended up stopping by Amy's apartment, hoping to get some kitty love from Shirley Blue and Mr. Buford, but neither of them lavished me with the attention I crave. And to see Amy because, like, she was there and is cool and whatnot.
Amy walked with me over to grab a salad at the local Roast Beef joint. When I walked in, I instantly recognized the lady behind the counter. She's a little older than your average counter girl, and very well dressed. She used to run the sub shop near the college where I used to work.
"Didn't you used to work at Dina's?" I asked her.
"Yes! I know you!" and after a few minutes she said "Where are the guys? You don't have your boys with you?" Meaning Ben, Brian and Dan. I explained that I didn't work at the college anymore but was having lunch with them tomorrow.
"Bring them by! Tell them I said hello!" She hasn't seen us in probably four years, but she remembered. Funny. It cracked me up. And it made me sad. I missed seeing her and having her ALWAYS know exactly what I wanted and how I wanted it. Extra feta on my salads, steak tips or chicken right on top so the feta gets all melty. She was the best. I'm so psyched she is nearby.
How sad is my life that I'm psyched to find Dina the Sub Lady again? Jeeesh. Someone smack me.
It could be worse. I could have exciting deadly horrible scary things happening. I could be having an ongoing brawl with my boss' wife about grammar. That'd be impossible to deal with.
Right now I need to go pack stuff for the boys for their big trip tomorrow. Get them as organized as I can. Be a helpful den mommy. And I have to find the flip flops for my pedicure. ta for now kiddies.
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