Sometimes, I feel like I belong in another era.
I like being a stay at home mom.
I like to cook. And while I don't have my husband's slippers waiting for him when he gets home, with a vodka tonic in one hand and his paper in the other, I'm a tad more traditional than most of my friends. (except politically, which makes me the enigma that I am).
Do you see where this is going? I went to my husband's work Xmas party this weekend. I love his co-workers. I have written about them before. They are, ahem, surgically enhanced. They are beautiful, in a very Southern California, Orange County way. They also have a very, very raunchy sense of humor.
They couldn't wait to tell me how, on a recent business trip to Vegas, they snared the department head's luggage and filled it with g-strings. Then they told me they were planning on giving my husband something similar for Christmas. I like these girls, I really do. But I shook my head and said to them "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"
My husband would die. Seriously. A hole would open up in the ground and swallow him whole. I gently suggested they move along to the tin of popcorn route. After seeing my face, they quickly agreed.