Anticipation

Okay so I am supposed to have an appointment to go for a bikini sugar - sorry if that's too much information but hey we all do it or should - and my appointment was for 5:30. I physically inputted the appointment into my husband's Blackberry which meant that he had to be home by 5:00 so that I could leave. Well he walks in the door at 5:10, very casually and all hell is breaking loose. Hudson is melting down because nothing is coming out of his dinky. He desperately wants to pee for a treat. Yep, we're potty training and Gage has bad farts which equates to tummy pain which equates to full out hysteria.
Anyway, the "doddler" walks in and is clearly put out because of the mayhem. He grabs Gage as I put Hud in a time out and run downstairs to put a load of poop filled blankets and a onesie in the wash. I run up, speak with Hudson, notice that Gage is full on screaming because Brent put him down to change out of his office attire. I pick up Gage, try to console Hud who is now bawling because he doesn't want mommy to go. Naturally I am watching time tick away - knowing full well that I could be one hairy beast at the beach this weekend.

To make a long story short, I missed my appointment with Linda at Blush - the best sugarer ever. Is that a word? I feel terrible because I like her so much, I actually think I might cry and I feel sad for myself who is now going to be chubby and hairy at the lake. The "doddler" has offered Hudson McDonald's if he settles down. So, I say, "I have missed my appointment now, why don't you just go?"

Hang on while I sip my beer... okay I am back.

He says, "Are you sure?" I feel I like killing him. "Yes, I am sure as I now have missed my appointment." He proceeds to get ready to go. I let him leave - gladly - feed Gage who is now smiling - amazing what a little TLC can do and crack a beer.

The real question though is clearly - Why couldn't he come home and tell me that he would handle things. Just go - it'll be fine. Oh that's right - because he is the man in this relationship and I should move heaven and earth for him but God forbid I don't want to be hairy at the beach!!! Did I forget chubby?????

Mmmmmm beer.

B

PS - I am not a feminist, I am a realist.