Sometimes, We Must Embrace That Which We Despise
I took today off from work to allow myself adequate time to decorate the cupcakes that I am taking to the Man-Cub’s classroom later today. In doing so, I got a little taste of what it will be like once I quit my job and start working for Hugh at the store.
I think I like it.
For one thing, I got an extra twenty minutes of sleep.
Then, I exercised for an hour and therefore will not have to do it this evening.
Plus, I got my grocery shopping done at the Hellmouth and I did not have to fight crowds. While at the Hellmouth, I ran into the Cub’s Scout leader and I got to have a friendly conversation without rushing.
Then, at the checkout line, three genuinely cheerful employees, who had no problems bagging my groceries in my canvas bags, assisted me. They didn’t even look at me funny.
Once I got home, I decorated the cupcakes while watching Martha Stewart.
Moreover, I did all of that before 11:00, which is the time that I will be starting my workday at the store. If this is what it will be like, I do believe it will be perfect.
And, won’t you all please remind me of that when, after working together for a while, I confess an overwhelming desire to choke the living shit out of my husband?
Thank you, in advance for your cooperation.
Now, back to the topic at hand. The Man-Cub has been very much looking forward to his classroom party. As luck would have it, today is the last day of the High School’s Homecoming week so; the elementary school will be dismissed to watch the Homecoming parade shortly after the cupcakes are served. Convincing the Cub that the parade was not actually in honor of his birthday posed more of a challenge than you might imagine.
Since we are doing a football themed party anyway, this turn of events has proven quite fortuitous; I decorated the cupcakes in the school colors and Hugh plans to take both children to watch the football game at the High School tonight, freeing me to decorate the football-shaped birthday cake for the party tomorrow.
Sunday afternoon, there will be a Bronco game on television and, since Sunday is his actual birthday, I’m sure the Cub will want to watch it while eating leftover cake and yelling obscenities at the television (he gets that from his grandfather).
All of which means that, by bedtime Sunday night; the child will have celebrated three solid days of football-themed birthday bliss.
People who know me in real life will appreciate the irony in this. In fact, certain people will be wondering how many cupcakes I will have to consume in order to kill the bitter, bitter taste of irony in my mouth and, to those people I say, apparently more than two.
But I shall keep you posted.