I had a run in on Friday night. At around 11 p.m. I wasn't looking my best. In fact, I was wearing a pair of tattered black sweat pants that may have fully reached my ankles when I was thirteen years old {yes, I still have them because they are pefectly "worn in" by being washed at least three thousand and eight-four times - they are drawstring too by the way so they "give" if ya know what I mean and were large when I first got them one winter eons ago}. Anyhow, I had an impulse to leave the house Friday night - even though it was late. Very late. But the husband was in tow so I wasn't alone. When I got in the car he took one look at my hair {partially lumped up in a clip} and glanced at those tattered sweat pants and with a "don't take it personal because I love you" kind of laugh said, "um yeah, you're not getting out of the car". Did he just not-so-subtedly say he would be embarrased if he was seen with me? I let it slide...because afterall, he cut his movie short {with just 20 minutes left until the end} to take me to meet an acquaintance that I haven't had the pleasure of laying eyes on in a while...
The Blackout Cake at The Cheesecake Factory.
Yep. At 11:oo p.m. we got out of bed and drove about 7 miles to The Cheesecake Factory to fulfill a sudden pregnancy craving that just wouldn't go away. What a husband I have.
I stayed in the car while he went inside to get me the deepest, richest chocolate cake that I was yearning to delve into. Remembering his comment that I basically looked "tore up from the floor up {wow - how long has it been since you heard that?} I suppressed my urge to hop out of the car and declare to every by passer, "I'm with THAT guy....yep HIM...he's my HUSBAND!!". However, I couldn't chance him holding my chocolate cake hostage so I remained buckled in the car as instructed. Besides, it was a little windy out and I didn't want my hair to get ruined. Afterall, I spent all of three seconds putting it in that clip.
And those sweatpants...they just went in the wash for their three thousand and eight-fifth time. They will likely never see retirement.
Yep. At 11:oo p.m. we got out of bed and drove about 7 miles to The Cheesecake Factory to fulfill a sudden pregnancy craving that just wouldn't go away. What a husband I have.
I stayed in the car while he went inside to get me the deepest, richest chocolate cake that I was yearning to delve into. Remembering his comment that I basically looked "tore up from the floor up {wow - how long has it been since you heard that?} I suppressed my urge to hop out of the car and declare to every by passer, "I'm with THAT guy....yep HIM...he's my HUSBAND!!". However, I couldn't chance him holding my chocolate cake hostage so I remained buckled in the car as instructed. Besides, it was a little windy out and I didn't want my hair to get ruined. Afterall, I spent all of three seconds putting it in that clip.
And those sweatpants...they just went in the wash for their three thousand and eight-fifth time. They will likely never see retirement.
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