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First, let me start with saying that I love my husband. I really do. He’s funny and smart and even lets me dress him in whatever I want him to wear. He’s awesome.


We work together. We live together. We sleep in the same bed. Every night. Of Every day.

But there’s good news!

My husband is out of town on a business trip… for 5 whole days. * cue end zone side step shuffle, kick ball change, pirouette, hit dougie…repeat…*

And not only is he GONE, all the way to Arizona, but he left me in charge of the tax return…It’s like Christmas! So all day I’ve been day dreaming about what I’m going to do while he’s gone. This includes:

–        Buying him a new car

–        Getting a trampoline for the back yard

–        F that – a pool! We need a pool! And not a PWT above ground number – a REAL pool…

–        Buying ME a new car

–        Hiring a maid

–        You can’t get a pool without landscaping.

–        Oooh! A water feature!

–        I think we should replace the sapling in the front yard with an imported California redwood

–        Another dog, just like the one we already have, just younger…

–        Matching dogs need matching sweaters

–        And purses to carry around said dogs

–        He really needs a new car

–        I think the bedroom should be painted. I hope he likes lilac!

–        Maybe a cat instead of a dog…

–        I should remodel the kitchen

–        House hunting

–        I need lypo

So clearly, if left to my own devices for just 5 days, I can not only blow through a whole middle class (read “anorexic”) tax return in the blink of an eye, but risk my marriage while I’m at it… So here’s the list of things I’m REALLY going to do:

–        Buy a dining room set

–        Catch up on Basketball Wives

–        Get a pedicure

And getting a maid is a maybe…

See how rather unimpressive that list is?

Why won’t he let me be great?

Some of the things i hate the most about being a grown up is being reponsible, making the “right” decisions, and talking myself out of fun shit…

One of the best things about being a grown up, though?


Oh, and eating your dessert first. mmmmmmm….