First, let me confess I’m wearing an unmentionable right now. But I’ll mention it anyway. Because as one of my friends aptly said, “You are just living your life out loud!”
Yes.I.am.
And yet? You keep coming back! You had your chance to run from the muffintopmommy madness. But that is why I LOVE you!
So you know how hub’s just had his minor surgery, right? For a belly button hernia that went rogue—it was a baddie. I knew he’d be laid up for a few days so as a joke, and because Amazon makes it so easy for impulsive muffintops who might have had a few beers to click twice and BOOM, get some fun merch in a just few short days……I ordered hubs a recuperating gift. A bright blue, as seen on TV, FOREVER LAZY! Yes, yes I did. I know what you’re thinking. They really need to start installing breathalizers on computers, kind of like when people get arrested for DUI repeatedly and the authorities put that thingy on their car so the car won’t start because they are clearly bound to try to drink and drive again and thus eventually harm innocents? That’s what they need for computers, right? I decided no one who would blow over a .08 on a breathalizer should be responsible for late night Amazon purchases or Facebook comments. Until vital societal changes are implemented, you got me again, Amazon, you got me!

LET THIS BE A LESSON TO YOU, KIDS--THIS TOO COULD HAPPEN TO YOU!
Anyway, can you believe the ingrate has not even worn it? He looked at it with utter disdain, touched the material, and muttered, “Gross.”
I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I married Queer Eye for the Straight Guy!
“Fine!” I huffed, “I’ll wear it! It even has a hood—in case a sudden gust of wind whips through the family room! I? Am always thinking of you!”
Meanwhile, I have listened impatiently to all his croaking about his “button”. Yes, it’s been shortened from belly button to “button”. The kids are all, “How’s your button, daddy?” “How are you feeling, daddy?” HEY KIDS, I pushed all of you out, one I swear with a fake Epidural bought on ebay, one after 4.5 hours of pushing, and one of you weighed almost ten pounds! I know, I know, old news, yada, yada. And we know I’m the sympathetic sort once a year. So as hubs lamented the day after his surgery, “I can’t believe they cut my tummy open yesterday. It really hurts!” I couldn’t help but reply, “They cut your tummy open, but the good news is, they didn’t hand you a baby immediately after and say, ‘You gotta take care of this little one now.’” Oh yeah. That was for you c-section mamas! *Pats self on the back of mah new Forever Lazy.*
It’s good that the surgery has brought us closer together as a couple though. Just the other day, I received this email from him:
Hubs: My belly button is stinging, but looks amazing. All the crap is falling off
Me: Who says old married couples don’t still get love notes?
(Sorry if you just threw up in your mouth, but I figured if you made it past the Forever Lazy summary, you’re a hearty bunch!)
So today, I made good on my threat. I decided the FL would get some action. I wanted to paint a small chair I bought to reupholster (yeah I’m still up to that shitz–still planning to start my DIY blog!) and figured, HA!, the FL would be a kick ass painting suit to wear!

SNEAK PREVIEW!
The only problem is, when I went to put a quick coat of paint on the chair in my garage, I opened the door and 4 year old ran out with no shoes, no coat, and we had to get ready for a school event. I didn’t want him getting all wet and muddy. But of course he darted around the corner and I shouted for him to come back.
Again.
And again.
I poked my head around the side of the garage.
Nothing.
I stuck my paint stained slipper clad foot onto the driveway and yelled.
Nothing!
You know where this is going. I had to walk out of my house in broad daylight at 5 pm in my…..bright ass blue Forever Lazy. Now splattered with Annie Sloan duck egg blue, and cream spray paint, as sad accessories. I looked like a cross between a crazed inmate and Cookie Monster.
The best part? Is that when I bent over, I felt a draft. There is a zipper on this thang that goes across my arse –didn’t even know til 5 year old unzipped it when I bent over. (Always read the fine print when you shop late night! Never know when you might need to air out your arse!)
I don’t think I’m getting invited to the block party.