When we were younger, J used to give me flowers. He doesn’t anymore, although that may be due to one or diatribes I have performed about the environmental waste involved with cut flowers. And, he does not give me chocolates anymore, although that may be because I have given up sweets. But, darn it, he does not give me jewelry, either, and I have absolutely no philosophical qualms about most forms of bling. Well, except for blood diamonds, I suppose…
So, perhaps I have not left the door open for much in the way of romance. But, gosh darn it, I think he may have gone too far. Overheard the other night after dinner:
J: “From the waist up, you are smaller than I have seen you in a long time.”
Emily: “You know, that’s not really what I wanted to hear.”
J: “I mean, before you had Ben, you were really thin. From the waist up, you are that thin now.”
Emily: “You know, usually when you are in a hole four feet deep and you have a shovel, you should consider stopping the digging.”
Zachary: “Mommy, excuse me please. I have something to tell you.”
J (relieved): “Please!”
Well, it’s hard to complain. He was doing the dishes at the time.
I have a friend. She is feeling isolated and overworked and needing support from other mothers. She is also a very good writer. I think she needs a blog. A Mommy blog, perhaps. Do me a favor? Leave her a note here telling her so.