I thought maybe if I just didn’t say anything he wouldn’t notice what time it was and I could just lie around on the couch and watch Definitely, Maybe and eat chocolate chips. It didn’t work.
And just as he was about to call for the car*, I decided to try to talk him out of it (between fistfuls of chocolate).
“It’s just so hot and I ate too much Indian food and we were away all last weekend and we’ll be gone this weekend and I’ll only know one person there and. . . I’m just so PMS-y. I just want to eat junk food and watch this movie and look at pictures of babies in costumes. I want to google pictures of puppies in baskets.”
So we didn’t go. And he cuddled up on the couch with me.
And yesterday while he was watching baseball with his dad, I looked up baby names on the Social Security website and wedding venues and pictures of the party in the 1954 version of Sabrina.
It is a good thing every week isn’t the blank pill week in the DialPac.
* We got a garage, and it makes even going to Bay Ridge sound like a fancy event.