All kinds of fucked up
Today, in the rain and muck of studying, I am going out with a friend to shop. I have a wedding to attend. It is the second marriage of one of my high school boy friends to his lovely eastern European younger woman fiance and I must look, well, hawt. I need girdles, fancy stealth type bra and slinky but not too sexy dress that oozes casual elegance and hipness. I may need more than one shopping trip and some kind of wonder drug to fool everyone at the wedding. Maybe I will spike the punch fountain with LSD.
So, as I announced I was going out. alone. Spawn and Chica replied in a cacophony of annoyance and pleas to please, well they didn’t say please-I am pretending they said please, come with me. I state that I want to go out alone with my friend and when in the world was the last time I went anywhere by myself? Spawn informs me, “Mothers Day” he says smugly with disdain. I ask, “Where in the world did I go? I was home with your heathens all day because Daddy was at work!” He sputters, “Nu-uh, you went to the drug store all alone. And we couldn’t come. You were gone for like 20 minutes.”
Do you think I could score pot, drink some cocktails, have an affair, get a tattoo, cut my hair and loose 20 pounds in just the two hours I have to be out before I need to put them to bed with a kiss?