I don’t know if it’s the chocolate taste,
Or if it’s the tobacky,
Whatever it is, all well and good,
If it makes my husband happy.
It tastes great and reduces stress,
Some may say it’s healthy,
All that not accounting,
For the mounting of his belly.
And I really hope he’s being neat,
Cause if he’s making crumbs, We
will end up with some rodents,
Who are acting awful funny.
Napowrimo Entry # 5
I don’t think I can take it,
I really had enough,
You keep calling the house,
But when I answer you hang up.
My husband says you’re just a stupid kid,
And that you will stop soon,
But you never hang up on him,
Though sometimes he takes it in the other room.
I wonder if you’d just hold on,
For a great need has arisen,
And I have so much to say,
If you would only listen.
I’d tell you about my children,
They are healthy, they are happy,
And I would tell you how very much,
Those kids love their daddy.
I’d tell you how joyful we once were,
Such a perfect match,
And how everything will be better,
When we get over this rough patch.
I’d tell you how it feels,
To sit around and wait,
For him to come home,
When he says he’s working late.
I have faith in something bigger,
And I can still believe,
He wasn’t lying when he told me,
He would never leave.
I can tell you about the dreams we had,
And all the things we did,
But oh why would I tell you all that?
You’re just a stupid kid.
NaPoWriMo Entry #4
For my daughter it is long and low and can be almost fruitile,
From my son a toot from his boot can often become brutal,
When my husband’s at it, there’s such an awful smell,
You would think that Satan himself blessed him with the bowels or hell.
And when I give them all some beans, it almost sounds symphonic
All good and well although the smell’s catastrophically atomic.
What’s up with the man crush? First of all, let me say I am the least homophobic person on the planet, and indeed, I think the more liberal America has become, the more okay they are with the man crush. However, I am not okay with the man crush!!
When men crush, they crush hard. They wrestle each other, they exchange adorable witticisms, and to be sure, they act, well not really adorable at all.
Maybe I am just bitter and jealous of my husband’s current man crush. The two exchange witty banter on Facebook ad nauseam, and I am really tempted to add my comment, “Why don’t you guys just get a room already?”
When my son did his latest School of Rock performance, Man Crush came. He did not sit at our table but hovered by the bar sending drinks over to my husband. I guess he did not want our ‘fierce competitiveness’ to get in the way of his good time.
Of course my husband spent a good portion of the afternoon at the bar entertaining Man Crush. My daughter kept asking me, “Where’s daddy?’ to which I answered, ” At the bar making out with Brian.”
Today is Valentine’s Day. My husband posted a very nice comment to me on Facebook along with a YouTube link to a Paul Westerberg song. I thought this was all very nice and sweet, and commented in that vain, but I did wonder, why Paul Westerberg? I don’t really like Paul Westerberg. Within minutes I say that Guy Crush commented on the post as well. ‘Paul Westerberg, awesome,’ he said. Ah, it is all becoming clear to me now!
As a teenager and young adult, I always loved going to parties. But ever since children came in to the picture, the amount of party invitations I received have been rapidly declining. That’s why I was thrilled when my husband told me that my presence was required at his company office party. And this one could actually be fun being that my husband does not work for a stuffy law firm, but rather one of the biggest music rehearsal studios in the world, catering to a clientele of unbelievably famous rock and pop stars. While I’m sure none of the clients will be at the party, at least it will be somewhat of a rock n’ roll crowd.
However, since I have not been to a party in a while, my husband and I had to have a long talk about what is considered proper party etiquette for a person my age and I’m not so sure I am looking forward to the party any more.
My husband has specifically told me I am forbidden from:
1)Telling all his colleagues that I am not his wife but in fact a prostitute he paid to escort him to the party and then passing around my ‘business cards’ to some of his coworkers
2) Asking the boss’ wife if she can refer me to a good plastic surgeon
3) Asking May from accounting how far along she is (May is not pregnant)
4) Taking my husband’s boss aside and asking him to give my husband a raise while showing him pictures of our poor children
5)Taking my husband’s boss aside and asking him if it would be possible to introduce me to Mick Jagger, what Mick Jagger is really like and whether he thinks we would hit it off
6) If I must sing karaoke, I am strictly forbidden from doing my best bump and grind while performing an embarrassingly erotic version of “Santa Baby” ( and by the way, all dancing on the bar is, well, off the table)
7)The wearing of lampshades and togas is strictly prohibited
8) And absolutely, positively, under no circumstances, am I to fax a picture of my breasts to corporate.
Party, schmarty, I think I’ll just stay home!!