Splendid

Gosh, tricky thing. Need tweezers...

For days here, I have been trying to catch a breath.

So, let’s start. Stomach flu ala Vince, starting Thursday and ending yesterday. Non-stop poo and vomit. And drugs. For him, I mean. I think I had a full weekend of ‘Man Sundays” which, as I am sure you know, means there is no showering going on and perhaps you stay in your pj’s. And maybe watch Chugginton and Thomas the Tank Engine all day long… Or non-stop Mickey Mouse.

The flu was followed by our 6 year anniversary. Which was yesterday. Edward had made reservations ages ago at Disney, we were geared up for it. And then the flu arrived and weplayed around with canceling our reservation. Vince’s health took a bit of an upturn and so we decided to proceed.

Dropping him off at daycare yesterday, well it kinda sucked. He wasn’t too crazy about school, I was feeling a bit rough about it too and so decided on the spot to pick him up early, just after lunch, hoping that a snooze and hangout sesh with Mummy would calm the wild beast stomach.

Well, it almost worked. And then he puked in a public parking lot. Just totally random. And randomly followed by some more diarrhea. And then, all of this followed by a rough nap, a quick hair-do, throwing a dress on and us all headin gover to Sassy and PopPop’s for some babysitting.

So I confess. I had to go and buy a bra. With Vince. And it was a bit of a slap-dash affair. I needed one of those clever bras, the kind that make you coffee etc. And if they can’t do that, at least they are capable of flexibility.

Like the one I chose to buy stated. It claimed it had ‘8 different positions’. I got to 3. The fourth one, the one I really wanted, gave me some trouble. It claimed it could morph into a halter bra and I believed it.

30 minutes later, perched on my bed with a set of tweezers, I tried to force the straps to do things they clearly did not want to. Like be a halter bra.

Edward called me 3 times and I didn’t even notice.

I was sweating.

Finally I called him back and proclaimed “My apologies, I was trying to fit my chest into this stupid bra”.

I think he drooled his response into the phone.

Stupid bra. It lied to me. And it made me sweat. Things a bra should not do to it’s devoted owner…

Well, regardless, they ended up looking splendid and the anniversary progressed as planned. I still ponder this bra-quation. I just don’t understand how the straps are incapable of performing. It was a total viagra/cialis promise.

Promising ‘much’, delivering ‘little’.

xoxo a.m.

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