OMG, AM I MIDDLE AGED????

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Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Friends...you got what I ne-ed, Mom-ness, Uncategorized | Posted on 08-06-2015

Am I the last to know?

Hey, I thought it was cute when my kids asked me what a phone booth was last year. When my six year old grumbled he had to sit on a booster seat at the salon and I chirped, “Oh come on, you’re lucky you don’t have to sit on phone books!”,  he looked at me with the blank stare.

What’s worse than the blank stare? Does anything good come after the blank stare?

“What’s a PHONE BOOK?”

70's booster seat!

70′s booster seat!

Several years of being called ma’am, not being carded, or worse, being carded, and the woman looking at the ID with disbelief followed up by, “OH, well you have a baseball hat on.”

She took it back! Before I got to fully enjoy the moment. Before the last digit of my four number pin was entered onto the machine thingy at the register. She might as well have screeched over the loudspeaker.

I JUST DIDN’T SEE YOUR WRINKLY OLD FACE UNDER THAT HAT, LAY-DEEEEE!

She was a dope anyway. It’s called context clues, Sherlock. What underage chick would be buying a big banger of Cavit?

The past few years, I’ve started to notice a lot of the teachers looked younger and younger. And the student teachers! Please. They look 12. Do they even know what Hooked on Phonics IS?

I went back to work full time this year, and realized I looked like a legit grown up in meetings. And people I interview have serious credentials….and are way younger than me. Way.

But it’s the 20th reunion coming up that really did it to me.

I realized, I’ve been out of college almost half my life. Some of my best friends from college I’ve known for TWENTY FOUR years. Some of my friends from college have kids in high school. Their kids are taller than we are, with bigger feet! They aren’t babies and toddlers and tiny beings who leave a wake of Cheerios and discarded binkies. (Five second rule!) If they are real, BIG, people then we are real, middle aged grown ups.

So I approach my reunion with mixed feelings. Don’t get me wrong–I could not be more excited to see some of the best friends I know I will ever have in this lifetime. Though hugely separated by geography and the demands of….life….I know we’ll instantly pick up as if we were hanging on our porch having a beer after class. I know what seems like five minutes ago was half my life ago. And that paradox kind of hurts my head.

And so it hit me. If this is middle age, it’s pretty damn good. I didn’t lose that 25 pounds before the reunion. (I mean, I do have like four days left. Don’t be hating on my optimism.) I don’t have a good tan. (Tan fat is NOT better than white fat—we are middle aged and skin cancer is real!) I am going for a pedi though and my toes will sparkle, man!

Most of all I realize that being middle aged is not a curse, but a blessing. There are people who have walked this earth who haven’t had the luxury to live to 41…to watch their hair go grey, to realize the creases on their forehead that they catch themselves looking at… are becoming deeper and more permanent.

I am watching my kids grow and I like what I see. They are imperfect like their parents but have good hearts. Whatever they will be, they will be. And I am excited to see it all shake out.

When you get to be middle aged, you are smart enough to know you’re not smart enough to know everything. You’re old enough to learn to be comfortable in your own skin, pale as hell as it is, as imperfect as it might be. You’re old enough to figure out who and what is important… to you.

No one can tell me I’m too old to do cannonballs off my diving board or play cornhole with my kids. I can drink domestic beer from a can and admit that I still like it. More than fancy wine. I said it. I mean it. I earned that right! If you can’t handle the truth then get off my lawn! I mean, my blog. NO, I kinda do mean my lawn. If you come to my lawn, I will share my domestic beer in can. I will. If you judge me for that, or anything, it’s on you.

No one can dull the sparkle of my can.

So middle age? I’m here for you. Show me what you got!

10 THINGS FOR MAMA TO DO ON A SNOW DAY

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Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Friends...you got what I ne-ed, Mom-ness | Posted on 27-01-2015

1. Google hypothyroidism and hope you have it. I feel tired! I’ve gained weight! My face IS puffy! 

2. Shop online for swimsuits that you know will fit better once you get your thyroid in check and the three thousand feet of snow melts!

3. Open the hall closet and vow today will be the day you finally organize it. Walk away.

4. Go back to closet and hide with coffee and Oreos while a melee ensues in family room during Wii u.

5. Twist ankle in closet on weights you would be using if you didn’t have an obvious thyroid condition.

6. Limp to unload dishwasher and realize you forgot to run it last night. See! My hypothyroidism is making me forgetful! Or was it the vino? Wait.

7. Text your friends to see if they want to come over for a playdate happy hour.

8. Answer the door, invite your friends in, don’t hang their coats in the closet because it’s a mess covered in Oreo crumbs and coffee splatter, and explain to them over a random assortment of party snacks you had in the house that you have a thyroid problem.

9. Google hypothyroidism and show them your awesome WebMD’ing.

10. Drink more wine and call endocrinologist to see if they offer group discounts. Indignantly shout, “NO! This isn’t a joke!” when they challenge you, and tell them,  ”Then we’re happy to book with the place I saw on Groupon that comes with a free trip to Mexico!”

JUAREZ HERE WE COME!

JUAREZ HERE WE COME!

KATHIE LEE, COME HAVE A DRINK WITH ME!

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Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Awesomeness, Friends...you got what I ne-ed, Mom-ness, MTM hits the road!, Uncategorized | Posted on 12-10-2014

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It’s not really stalking if you’re at an official event, right?

So goes the story. Kathie Lee Gifford has a new line of wines out (in conjunction with a winery in Monterey) called, Gifft. I wanted to picture her stomping grapes like I Love Lucy but alas, no.

IT'S A GIFFT. NOT A GIFT. IT'S $15 U.S. SMACKERS. AUTOGRAPH, FREE!

IT’S A GIFFT. NOT A GIFT. IT’S $15 U.S. SMACKERS. AUTOGRAPH, FREE!

 

The wine comes in two varieties, Chardonnay and Red Blend. (Red Blend? Ooh, it’s a mystery!) KLG visited a market down the street from my house to promote her new vino yesterday. Kathie Lee, wine, the chance to pimp my book to a woman who relishes cocktailing at 11 AM? How could I NOT? Some people dream of playing major league baseball or finding a cure for cancer. I just wanna sip some chard with KLG and Hoda.

Stop. It’s not nice to judge.

 

STALKING IS LIKE 199 TIMES MORE FUN WHEN YOU RANDOMLY BUMP INTO A FUN FRIEND ON YOUR RECON MISSION!

STALKING IS LIKE 199 TIMES MORE FUN WHEN YOU RANDOMLY BUMP INTO A FUN FRIEND ON YOUR RECON MISSION!

I came, I saw, we faux hugged, I gave her a copy of my book, Mommy Mixology: A Cocktail for Every Calamity. Which, for all I know, later hit the circular file at the market though she did graciously accept it!

JUST HANGING BY THE BREAD AISLE WITH KLG. NO BIG.

JUST HANGING BY THE BREAD AISLE WITH KLG. NO BIG.

Tick, tock. Not sure why my people I haven’t heard from her people yet? It’s been almost 24 hours! Don’t KLG and Hoda know how much fun sipping cocktails with me could be!? For the love of God, I’m a professional! And, I’m even willing to even endure the mental anguish of seeing my muffin top x an extra ten lbs!

Until then, I’ll be enjoying the GIFFT at home. In my polka dot jammies. I knew you’d be wondering if this stuff was any good, so as a public service to you my bestest readers, I twisted open the chard to test it! The hubs and I found it to be quite light and refreshing. And as you know, we are quite the wine afficionados. (NO.)

I KNOW. I LIKE BIG BEERS AND I CANNOT LIE.

I KNOW. I LIKE BIG BEERS AND I CANNOT LIE.

 

But hey, we like what we like and there is no shame in that! Sometimes I find chards to be kind of heavy and this was not–I truly enjoyed it. And clearly, this is not a sponsored post. I stalked it out and paid cash money for the vino!

My only complaint with this wine is it’s a twist off. I’m not implying that makes it inferior as I know there has been much debate about this in the wine world—it’s only because I like to save my corks to make fun crafts at Christmas. Geek alert. But, otoh, yay for twist off if you’re travelling and don’t want to deal with toting a wine opener. Nuttin’ worse than finding yourself in a square hotel room in East Bumblebee staring helplessly at a bottle with no opener, am I right? (Now who’s a dummy for travelling with beer in a can???) I picked the red up for a friend so I’ll have to let you know what she thinks! Red + Muffintopmommy = fetal position! No bueno. Until then, for the good of my Christmas list, I’ll keep pressing on with mah corks……salud!

 

THE CORKS ALMOST RUNNETH OVER!

THE CORKS ALMOST RUNNETH OVER!

 

 

 

 

 

4-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO?

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Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Awesomeness, Boys, boys, boys! And did I mention, boys?, Friends...you got what I ne-ed, Mom-ness, OH &^%$!!, Random Rage, Uncategorized | Posted on 26-07-2013

FORTY?

Forty years ago, Bad, Bad Leroy Brown was at the top of the charts, Archie Bunker curmudgeoned his way into our living rooms on All In The Family, the MRI was invented, Billie Jean King kicked some tennis arse, and the Oakland A’s were World Series Champs. And in Boston, a little squawker was born. The thing about being born in 1973 to parents who were 40 and 45, who already had kids who were 13, 12, and 7, is that after a while the writing’s on the wall. Irish + Catholic + ohgawdmygawd. They must have hit one of the DiGirolamo’s infamous parties and, to quote Teresa from Real Housewives of New Jersey, “Brown chicka brown chow.” Too many Schlitzes? Too many VO and waters? No Catholic birth control. BOOM.

*Shudders.*

Well, all I can say is, thank God we weren’t Presbyterian. *waves hello *no offense God faring Presbyterians and all other birth control loving denominations

My family was so loving about it though. While one sister told me my parents bought me on the corner for a dime and got change, the other told me when my mom found out she was preggers she banged some pots and pans together. When the doctor called our house to share the great news a new sister was born, the third chick to make my brother wait for the bathroom, bro reportedly went behind the couch and cried. Pussy. He would be sorry when I turned out to be full of awesome. Not really. When the doctor called back, he refused to take his call. My how times have changed!

But hey, NO hard feelings! This all explains a lot, doesn’t it?

My parents were kind enough to soften the sibling barbs and say I was a”happy accident” and that I “kept them young”.

Um hmm.

Meanwhile……..

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, and……

Lights! (But not too bright, my wrinkles will show!) Camera! (Um, not too close, and let me tilt my face to hide my three chins!) Action! (Brown chicka brown chow! Shut it. I’m 99.9% sure I will not repeat history as a card carrying cafeteria Catholic heath-en!)…….

40.

Now that it’s spelled out, it seems like a lot. 28 more than the Electric Company song. 40 years on fast forward……Walking, talking, falling of my biking, awkward buck teething, first dating, kissing, missing, soaring, oversleeping, dancing, boozing, schmoozing, marrying, birthing, parenting, writing, flighting. That was FLIGHTING, not FIGHTING. Who do you think I AM?

40. It’s just a number, right?

40% off is a lot.

$40 dollars. Not a lot.

40 lbs. Not a lot. Unless you lose 40 lbs. Then it’s a lot.

40 boyfriends, husbands, hook ups, mystery illnesses? Yup. A lot.

40 miles. Not a lot. Unless you’re running. Or swimming. Or spelunkswimhikingbikingtriahaloning. Then it’s a lot.

I know I should probably look like this right now:

 

I DROPPED MAH EGG BECAUSE I'M FOHHHHTY!!!

But seriously. 40 is the new, what, 11? It’s all good. I’m happy. I’m healthy. (The holes in my liver will close up after summer, c’mon!) I have a wonderful family and much to be grateful for. A few months ago, I came across this quote, “Growing old is a privilege that is denied to many.”
It is. And I well know it.

So on my 40th, and for the next hopefully 40 or 80 years (you never know—this kid brought to you by Schlitz and VO—here’s hopin’!), I’m going to heed a line from my favorite writer Erma Bombecks’, “If I Had My Life To Live Over”, “I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa was faded.”

WORD. Let’s do it everyone, whether you’re 30 or 40 or 50 or 99.

We’ve earned it. With every bad breakup, boss, unfortunate hair style, trauma, scar, and loss. Every hope, dream, goal achieved. We’ve earned the right. To know who we are, who our friends are, who will gain the privilege to grow old with us and pop a squat on our faded sofas.

So bring it. 40 more years or bust. We meet here. At dawn, we ride!

 

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

 

BON BONS HERE I COME!

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Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Boys, boys, boys! And did I mention, boys?, Friends...you got what I ne-ed, Random Rage, Retail Therapy, Uncategorized | Posted on 14-06-2013

And just like that, another school year is almost over. And now that I’m out of my pollen coma (*waves–remember me?), I realize I have tons of fun stuff to look forward to this summer with my three boys. Now that they’re getting older, I feel confident they can entertain themselves. Bon Bons here I come. FI-NALLY!

HANGING FROM CURTAIN RODS IS A FUN GAME! I THINK IT'S RATHER THOUGHTFUL THAT THEY DID IT ON BOTH SIDES SO THEY'D MATCH. I'M SURE HUBS WILL GET TO FIXING THAT WHEN THE STANLEY CUP IS OVER....OR IN 2014 SOMETIME. NO RUSH. NO RUSH.

 

Who needs educational games when we can just dump a family sized box of Cheez-It’s on the table and in the randy Christmas tree dish that’s most likely caked in dust. Bon appetit!

 

HO HO HO? WE DON'T NEED ANY FANCY CAMPS TO LEARN ABOUT SPACIAL RELATIONS!

We’ll be hitting the open road for sure. How lucky are we that 4 year old is totally qualified to run his own safety patrol? I mean, if he doesn’t come down with a rare dust induced botulism. Or the neighborhood kids don’t give him a wedgie—he did just shriek that a kid was riding his bike without a helmet on—on the movie Frankenweenie.

WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE BEAR. YOU'RE ALONG FOR THE RIDE BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I'M BUYING YOU A DOUGHNUT TOO!

Freeloader!

Some people like to lounge pool side at a fancay club. Not us! We keepin’ it real in the hood.

GUNITE POOLS AND SNACK BARS ARE SO OVERRATED. WHEEEEEE!

WT, two sides painted shed with dead flowers in windowbox, optional.

(Not pictured: mom holding beer in a can with Lands’ End granny suit on reading trashy magazine. Hear no evil, see no evil!)

Party on, rockstars, it’s summahtime!

WAYFAIR? PEAPOD? A FUN PARTY? SIGN ME UP!

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Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Awesomeness, Friends...you got what I ne-ed, Uncategorized | Posted on 26-04-2013

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For someone who loves to shop, decorate, and host parties, I got a Don Corleone offer that made my muffin top skip a beat. I couldn’t refuse! The offer was to receive $100 worth of groceries from Peapod.com and to choose five items from a list of adorable items from home decorating site Wayfair.com and get my spring on with some girlfriends for a little shindiggity. SOLD!

For those of you not familiar with these sites, Peapod is a grocery delivery service owned by the bricks and mortar supermarket Stop and Shop. Living in New Hampshire where the extent of delivery is dry cleaning and rubbery pizza, I was SO more than happy to try this service out. My sister used it a ton when she lived in Boston which made all kinds of sense because she lived in a walk up where parking was at a premium. For me, in suburbia, the benefits are different—-being able to skip dragging three kids to the store for party provisions felt like a real luxury, and no doubt kept me on task from making a myriad of pint sized inspired impulse purchases! (“Mooooom, I want, I want, I want! Canwecanwecanwecanwe puhhhllllleaaaaaase!”) Ordering on line was fast, painless, and easy—even never having done it before it only took me ten minutes at most. They came when they said they would, texted me when they were near, and bonus: the delivery guy was hot. (I cannot guarantee all the delivery guys are hot but thought it was worth noting? What? I’m a married hausfrau, I’m not dead! I thought it would have been a bit tacky/Desperate Hausfraus NH to ask for a pic for my blog. You’ll have to take my word.)

DID I MENTION PEAPOD CAME IN THE TORRENTIAL RAIN? INSIDE THAT TRUCK WERE ALL MY GROCERIES, THE HOT DELIVERY DUDE, AND I GOT TO JUST SIT IN MY FOYER AND WATCH. I ALMOST FELT LIKE I WAS COMMITTING A CRIME.

Peapod also takes coupons and will save your order for next time. You can see what items are on sale to keep costs in check too, and the computer tallies how much you’re spending as you’re shopping—another great feature that helps keep you on budget. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve gotten to the checkout line and been unpleasantly surprised at the total. (Some of you might remember the hubs banner  $270 grocery trip where he was henceforth banned from food shopping!)

HEY! PAWS OFF MAMA'S STASH!

As an aside, I recently learned independent of this project, that Stop & Shop and its parent company, Ahold USA, have supported The One Fund Boston with a $500,000 donation to help victims affected by the tragic events from the Boston Marathon. I don’t know about you, but I like to patronize businesses who support the communities in which they do business and I am grateful they have chosen to donate to this fund and think it is worth noting.

The items I received from Wayfair did not disappoint either. Because I fear my amateur pictures do them justice, I’ve included the links to the website so you can get closer looks. Now Wayfair to me is like Homegoods meets Overstock.com….tons of cute stuff at fantastic prices (And they do also sell baby items, luggage, pet stuff, if that’s your thang…). Choosing just five items was hard because they all looked so awesome. Let’s take it from the top:

 

LOVING THIS VASE. IT WAS MUCH WIDER THAN I EXPECTED SO IT MADE FOR A BEAUTIFUL CENTERPIECE.

Blue is one of my favorite colors, and I love the textured glass. I think it really makes it stand out. (You can see the vase on their site here.)

HERE'S ANOTHER SHOT. FLOWERS MAKE ME HAPPY! (YES, I'M SHOUTING. YES, I'M LOOKIN' AT YOU HUBS! IF YOU DON'T BRING ME SOME, I KNOW A HOT PEAPOD GUY WHO WILL. SO WHAT IF I HAVE TO PAY HIM!)

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? COME BACK IN MY DINING ROOM AND LOOK AT MY PRETTY FLOWERS AND PEAPOD FOOD! MARTHA? INA? ANYONE?

The next item I chose was this gorgeous mirrored tray which you can see here. I think it’s technically for your bedroom to put things like perfume on, but I decided it would be a pretty addition to the bathroom which is often a neglected little room, especially in a house full of men.

LOVE THIS TRAY! IT REALLY IS A TOUCH OF FEMININITY THAT MY BATHROOM, UH, LACKS. IT'S SOME BLINGY BLING FOR MAH BANO!

Markeritas anyone??

HOW SUNSHINE DAY IS THIS PITCHER? IT SCREAMS FUN. IT SCREAMS MARGARITAS. IT SPOKE TO ME. I HAVE NO PROOF. BUT IT DID.

You can find this vibrant pitcher here. Totally Mommy Mixology approved!

 

OKAY, GENIUS. THEY ARE WINE CORK CANDLES, AND EVEN HAVE THE WINE VARIETALS STAMPED ON EACH ONE. I WAS A REBEL AND USED PINOT IN A CHARD BOTTLE. ALL FUN. NO RULES!

 

AMBIANCE FOR DUMMIES. I LOVE IT! (PLEASE NOTE THE DESSERT PLATES IN THE BACKGROUND---WAYFAIR-IFFIC!)

Seriously, how cute would these be for a hostess gift? If you really wanted to make a splash, these plus a bottle of wine will make you a party guest to remember!

LET'S GIVE MERLOT A CHANCE, TOO!

Did you say dessert? I am, admittedly, no Betty Crocker, but these multicolored little plates make me smile and would highlight even the simplest desserts (like mine!). And if you’re thinking of a hostess gift or inexpensive gift for any occasion, this is a slam dunk. They come in a practical, yet pretty, box.

WHO WOULDN'T LOVE THIS?

 

STARE INTO THE LOVELY COLORED PLATES, AND THEN EAT. MY FAVORITE WRITER, ERMA BOMBECK, ONCE WROTE, "Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the 'Titanic' who waved off the dessert cart." GRANTED, I'VE BEEN DOING TOO MUCH SEIZING BUT THOSE PLATES, PEOPLE!

 

The best thing about these items from Wayfair? None of them cost more than $24 and most items on Wayfair come with free shipping. Whatwhatwhat! Yes!

You can have a party with flair for not a lot of money, with not a lot of running from store to store, when you have Peapod and Wayfair at your service. Now.We.Know! Happy spring, muffintoppers!

*I did receive $100 worth of groceries and these five free items from Wayfair to facilitate this review. All thoughts and opinions are my own, always.

SURGERY FOR THE HUBS? PLEASE STAND BY. HELP IS ON THE WAY.

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Posted by muffintopmommy | Posted in Boys, boys, boys! And did I mention, boys?, Friends...you got what I ne-ed, Mom-ness, OH &^%$!!, Random Rage, Uncategorized | Posted on 11-03-2013

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So, hubs found out last week that he needs to have surgery this week. Don’t bust out your rosary beads or your Buddha or call your Rabbi–it’s totally minor. (Which is why he’s feeling his pulse and pacing. But you need to know this IS the guy who turned ashen and shrieked, “What’s gonna happen to meeeee!?” when he realized I’d inadvertently given him a tuna sammie on a roll that had one TEENY, TINY, TEENY bit of mold on it. What? It wasn’t on purpose! Go to Burger King if you want it your way! I ain’t no Mrs. Patmore.)

WHAT IS SHE TRYING TO FEED ME NOW????

I know what you’re thinking. You. And You. AND you. What’s a little day surgery when he’s lived through almost 13 years of my culinary catastrophes. What’s a little day surgery when he’s survived at least a dozen common colds and three near misses with self diagnosed terminal Web-MD illnesses?

Right?

He’ll be fiiiine. I would be breaking HIPPA laws and probably marital ones too if I told you what he’s in for. Rhymes with kerplernia. 

Because I love him, I fully planned to see him through this. For better or worse. For poorer or poorer. In sickness breaking a collar bone racing a Razor scooter on Mother’s Day, blowing out a knee pretending to be a Solid Gold dancer at high school reunion, no hard feelings and in health. I have been there. I am there. I will be there. Like Lloyd Dobler from Say Anything. Only more. And better. (No offense, Peter Gabriel. This isn’t about you.) Instead of a boom box, I’ll have People mag. Trash tv. Ginger ale. I’ll make sure his TMZ app is working (Yes he has it. Would I EVEN make that up?!!) AND I’ll be keeping the kids from jumping on his recuperating kerplernia-ness. I won’t try to take advantage of him in his fragile state. (Just so we’re clear, slurred consent for me buying bling will hold up in court, yes? Any barristers in da house??)

YOUR WIFE WILL BE RIGHT IN TO SEE YOU. JUST AS SOON AS SHE'S BACK FROM THE JEWELRY STORE. MORE PERCS?

But seriously. I was all, “I got this!”

Then? He said something along the lines of—it’s all kind of hazy now—”By the way, I won’t be able to shower for like five days after the surgery. And, you’re going to need to change my dressings.”

WHACHUTALKINBOUTWILLIS!

Whatwhatwhatwhatwhat. Willis! Hubs! Soon to be Stinkyass! Whatever your name is!? What!?

I don’t remember much after that. I think I called my shrink. Oh wait, I don’t have a shrink. I mean, I opened my beer. And I said –to him–not the beer, “Now you are really taking this for better or worse chit a little too far lately. I am not yet 40–I have my whole half my life ahead of me! Can’t we save the Nurse Ratchet bit for Bingo time? If you want a dressing change, please, I am totally willing to go Italian to blue cheese–boom–just ask! I am here for you!” When I brought out the box of Elmo bandaids to be helpful, I do have to wonder—and I’m just throwing it out there—if he fleetingly wondered if maybe bringing English major flowers on a random Tuesday miiiight have helped my outlook?

I’m kidding.

Mostly.

But dude.

Five days of not showering? Changing dressings? While he’s laid up in bed surfing the net convinced he’s having kerplernia after shock complications that could cause blindness/ketosis/cirrhosis/deafness/impotence/male pattern baldness/typhoid/scarletfever/measles/sepsis/fungalungameningialcarpaltunnelness.

Who. Who’s busting me outta this joint?!!!