A Rare Saturday With The Husband

Saturday I spent the whole day with the husband. Not really so weird, right? Well for me that is a pretty rare occurrence - as in, I can't actually remember the last time that happened. That is just so sad. By the time he rolled out of bed at 10am I had been up for hours and drank 3/4's of a pot of coffee already. I was bouncing off the walls to go somewhere.

I jumped in the shower, got out, pulled on some jeans...and that was as far as I got. I sat down in front of the computer and checked my email while the husband showered, then sprawled on the couch to watch some lame show on TLC. Fifteen minutes later he's ready to go and I'm in crash mode dressed in a short pink bathrobe, jeans, and my hair up in a towel, still laying on the couch.

Finally I dragged myself to the bathroom, slapped on some makeup, did the hair, went into the bedroom to finish getting dressed...and...crashed again. Finally I just yelled at the husband so I could explain the situation; the conversation went like this:

Me: Um, I don't think it's going to be possible to go anywhere today.
The Husband: What? Why?
Me: Well, I don't seem to be able to finish getting ready.
The Husband: Why? What's wrong?
Me: Well I laid down on the bed and now I'm too tired to finish.
The Husband: Well what do you have left to do?
Me: Put socks on.
The Husband: That's it? (said in a somewhat exasperated tone)
Me: Well...yeah.
(sounds of the husband coming down the hall to the bedroom)
The Husband: Oh Ali... (he's doing a lot of eye rolling and smirking)
Me: Well...I can't find any socks!
The Husband: Here's some! (he grabs some sitting right beside me)
Me: Can you put them on? (I fling my foot into his face)
The Husband: Oh fine...

In actuality, his putting my socks on led to some...uh, relations - so I guess I wasn't that tired after all.

So when we finally left the house we spent the afternoon shopping, having lunch, walking around, trying on bras (me, not him), taking pictures and that was about it. As we were leaving one store I started talking about Dairy Queen. He agreed that if there was one on our way home we could stop so I could get a blizzard - lucky for me, I already knew there was one about 2 blocks away!

As we're in the drive-thru line waiting on our stuff, this old woman - I'd say about 78 - comes out of the store carrying an ice cream cake. As I watched her walk at a snail's pace across the parking lot, I started saying to the husband how easy it would be to just run by her and grab her cake. He kind of laughed, knowing my sense of humour, and brushed it off.

But I kept thinking about it while I watched her walk. I was saying stuff like "Seriously, it would be so easy to roll her, she's barely moving!" and "I really want a piece of her cake - stay in the car while I go take care of business!"

I was laughing, but at the same time thinking how easy it would be (seriously people, I must have some issues that I need to work through, but please know that I would never actually "roll" someone for their cake).

So as we're sitting there laughing, the old lady gets to this concrete median that she somehow has to get over. About 15 feet away from her are these two punks, smoking and watching her. I said to the husband "watch this, one of these kids is going to get to the cake before me!"

All of a sudden one of the punks starts walking towards her! I grab my door handle thinking that this punk is going to do something to this woman, and I'm all ready to go flying across the parking lot and kick some ass. But as we watch, we see the woman hand the cake to the kid, then she slowly swings herself over this divider wall. Once she gets to the other side the punk hands her back her cake and she toodles off while I'm sitting there with my mouth hanging open.

How low am I? Two 17 year old punks are helping this little old lady out and I'm making plans on the easiest way to roll her for her cake! Oh man...what a twisted girl I am.